


The One Who Watched The Wolf

by UnicornForceWinds



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, POV Solas, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:24:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnicornForceWinds/pseuds/UnicornForceWinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She saw the consequences of the path he chose for himself and is determined to show him a better way. He has her heart but knows almost nothing about her. Together they will play a glorious game while the fate of the world hangs in the balance.</p><p> </p><p>Lots and lots of Solas exposition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking Up Is Hard To Do

He struggled the first time he opened his eyes, and actually waking took him a little over a week. Forcing your body to move after a thousand years in uthenera was no doubt an exhausting endeavor. He was beautiful, lying like that, covered in furs and not yet feeling the unendurable pain he would face when fully conscious.

“Mmmmmm,” he grumbled, bringing his hand to his face to rub his eyes.

“Hello,” she greeted, voice kept intentionally soft.

He jerked into a seated position in his surprise, clutching his head and reclining back to a less dizzying angle. She helped lift his upper body while kneeling beneath it, making a support of her thighs.

“Who…” his voice was weak, rough; he shouldn’t try speaking so soon.

“Drink,” she said, a glass of water manifesting in her hand as she extended it towards him.

His face contorted in confusion, but he parted his lips, assenting as she brought it to his mouth.

“Not too much, not yet,” she warned him, pulling the glass away and setting it beside them. “It’s best to go slow with these things, or you will make yourself sick.”

He nodded his acceptance. His mind would likely be foggy for a while, as he fully came to and pieced everything together. She gently dragged her hand across his forehead, fingers stroking a feather-light touch down his cheekbone and then his jaw. The contact on his skin was incredibly soothing.

He kept his eyes closed now, letting himself relax. He didn’t know what was going on, but there would be time to sort through that later, and he didn’t appear to be in any danger. His companion seemed to radiate calming energy. A tiny part of his mind worried briefly that it might be some form of deception, but there would be no point in that. He was defenseless and at her mercy; if she wanted to kill him, she had ample opportunity to do so when he was still asleep.

He lied there for a while, taking sips of water and resting in her lap, until he felt well enough to sit up. She assisted him, an arm across his shoulders, in case he needed additional support. He did.

He was too heavy, his limbs weighed down by disuse, so she leaned his body against hers, head tilted to rest in the curve between her neck and shoulder. The more awake he became, the more aware of her closeness he was. How long had it been since he’d been touched, or held? It was a pleasure he found himself unable to resist indulging in. He was not the only one.

 

It was perhaps overstepping to enjoy the warmth of his body leaning against her. She had to resist the urge to press a soft kiss to his temple – it would be so easy to turn her head just slightly and find her lips against his skin. The desire was there, and that alone meant she absolutely could not. Just being here was enough, and rather more than maybe either of them deserved.

She could understand in the abstract, what lead him to his choices, but to so separate yourself from the world that you would presume to destroy it… it was beyond her comprehension. She would expect an eternal being to be wiser. Some worlds were beyond saving, that was true, and maybe the world he changed was, but the world he woke into was not. Nothing was perfect, that was an impossible goal, but this world was the antithesis of hopeless. _Dirthara ma_ , she thought, _but without having to kill everyone to do so._ She’d do everything in her power to ensure that he did.

With him as he was, she saw the man, rather than the idea that had at some point eclipsed him. Along the way he had lost sight of himself, but her vision was clear enough for both of them. He was getting saved, whether he liked it not, one way or another. If she had to drag him along kicking and screaming, then she would.

His following willingly was preferable, but this was bigger than him – the fate of the world hinged upon his salvation. She steeled her heart and reminded herself not to get caught up in the moment or in the sound of his breathing or the scent of his skin. Countless lives rested on her shoulders and they mattered too much to risk distraction. This was not for her, or even him, but for all the people of Thedas.

 

As he lifted his head, his spine now supporting his body on its own, she removed her arm, breaking contact. The loss left him with a feeling of absence.

With his vision no longer bleary, he decided to look at her. She appeared human at first glance, at least by the shape of her ears. He caught her eyes first – they were bright, grey-green, and too intense. Pale skin, not far from the color of her simple white robes, and pale hair to match, falling down her back in waves. A pretty face, but that did not make her remarkable.

There was something else, something that felt off. It was in her air, her posture, and especially in her eyes. She was much more than she seemed. A knot formed in his stomach as realization dawned. He needed to tread very carefully. She was a puzzle, one that he must solve. If he could not, all might be lost.

“I suspect you have questions,” she said, almost a tease. There was something in her voice, something he could not place.

“Am I to believe you will answer honestly?” He kept his face placid, gaze forward, facing away from her.

“If I am at liberty to do so I will, and I will tell you if I cannot.” He supposed he would have to take her at her word.

“Where is the orb?” He couldn’t stop his body from tensing as he said the words.

“It is safe. Do not worry Wolf, I have no interest in the power it holds.”

“And what power is that?”

“Some would say it can transorm a man into a God, though they would be wrong.” That sent his mind reeling. She was toying with him. “As I said, I have no interest in it.”

“But you take an interest in me.” It wasn’t a question.

“I need your help.” It sounded almost like a plea. She reached out, setting her hand on top of his. He was looking at her now, forcing himself to maintain eye contact – it was imperative he not show weakness.

“Holding someone hostage might be considered a poor way to ask.” He was trying very hard to keep his tone level, but he was getting angry. He pulled his hand away.

She laughed, actually laughed. His eyes narrowed.

“I will not stop you if you wish to leave, Wolf. The kindness I extended was given without expectation.”

“Kind is not how I would describe a thief.”

“Am I a thief if I take what was already stolen? Besides, you have not the means to use it, and I already said that I would not.” 

How much she knew, he couldn’t guess, but it was too much. She knew about him, and about the orb, and she knew about other things – things he didn’t. He broke eye contact. It had felt like she was boring into his soul, picking out all his secrets. Maybe she was.

 

It might have been almost fun, this dance between them, and she did love to dance. He was cunning; his wits could have matched hers if they were on a level playing field, but this was not a game. He liked those, though, she knew, and mystery was an easy way to draw him in. The trick was to trap him without him knowing he was being lured.

Taking the orb had not been a ploy, however. It was imperative that its power remain locked, both to him and anyone else capable of wielding it. Having it in play was far too dangerous, but inadvertently holding it over his head was a fortuitous consequence.

She stood up, turning to face him. “My intention is to save the world. However, my plans require your assistance. There's a lot to consider, so I’ll give you a few days to think it over.”

He was gaping, his eyes were looking right through her, but he’d heard the words. Wheels were in motion now, and hopefully they would turn in the right direction. Part of her thought to stay and observe him in the interim, but her time was better spent elsewhere. There were many pieces of her plan, and it was better to get them moving sooner rather than later.

Before leaving, she manifested a simple table with an elaborate array of food – fruits, stews, breads, and a ridiculous frilly cake. She hoped he would appreciate it. He might not care for the why, but he would certainly be interested in the how. He did have to eat, and it only made sense to seize every advantage. If the situation was different, he’d probably have admired her tactics. Then again, maybe he still would.

She decided it was best to walk away, not to reveal too much of her hand so soon. Besides, a short walk would give her a chance to figure out where to start.


	2. Seeing A Witch About A Wolf

“Well aren’t you an interesting one,” the old woman crooned.

“The same could be said of you Flemeth, or should I say Mythal?”

“Ooh, and clever too,” she let out an amused chuckle. “And what brings you to me, child?”

“I wish to ask something of you.”

“That is often the way of it.” She swept her hand to the side, a signal for her to continue.

“I’m actually not sure how much you know or don’t know, but my request is that you not get involved.”

Flemeth laughed herself into a cough.

“You went through the trouble of tracking me down, and coming all the way here, so you could ask me to not help?”

“It seems that way.”

“An interesting proposal, ean’u.” She was smiling at her, eyes full of mischief. “Supposing I was inclined to act, what might you do to dissuade me?”

“Tell you a story, if you would listen.”

A brief incline of her head meant that she would.

There was once a wolf. His choices left him alone, a stranger in a place he didn’t recognize. He had a magical box that allowed him to alter the fabric of the world, but he had lost the key. He was weak and tired, and when a demon promised to make him a new key, he agreed. The demon kept his word and the key worked, but he stole the box and used it to rip open the sky.

The wolf wrapped himself in the mantle of a sheep, and in this disguise he made friends. With his help, they sewed the sky shut and defeated the demon. Somehow, in the process, the box was destroyed.

Everyone but the wolf was overjoyed, for they had just saved the world. Rather than seeing what stood before him, the wolf saw only what he’d lost. He fled his friends and shed the sheep’s skin.

In desperate madness, he came upon his friend the dragon, whom he’d thought was dead. The dragon loved her friend and knew of his folly, so she gave him a new box, to replace the one that had been broken.

What she didn’t know was that in opening the box, the wolf would not only destroy himself, but the world with him.

When she had finished, Flemeth was quiet for a time, but her smile had vanished.

“Tell me, how came you by this story?”

“There was a bird who’d been watching the wolf. She shared her story with me.”

“And if she saw all you say, why did she not help the wolf?”

“That she did not tell me, perhaps she wished to but found herself unable.”

“And you, child, are able?”

She paused, “I hope that I am.”

Silence fell between them for a time, Flemeth placing a hand over her own and giving it a light squeeze. 

“As do I.”


	3. A Bird in The Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her plan requires an allegiance with the Divine and those that serve her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not gonna lie, i'm really proud of this chapter title.

When Divine Justinia glanced up to witness her sudden appearance, she let out a small gasp in surprise.

“My child, I did not see you there.”

“I was not here to see.”

“And where were you?” a slight wariness crossing her features.

“I had business elsewhere.”

“And now you have business with me?” a look of uncertainty crossing her features.

“You are a spiritual leader and an important symbol. I wish to offer you aid and receive your aid in return.”

“Maker’s blessings upon you, child.” The tension in her face easing, but her posture was not relaxed. “We welcome your aid, though I’m not sure how I can help you. Did you wish to pledge your service?”

“Not exactly, but I believe we might assist each other.”

“You’ll forgive me, but I don’t understand.”

“There is much to say, but I would speak with your Hands as well, if you would summon them.”

A bell on the wall called for a servant, who was sent to fetch the _Hands of the Divine._ The woman herself remained standing until there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” her voice was a little too tight. The woman was afraid, she realized.

“You wished to see us, your Holiness?” Leliana inquired, in lilting Orlesian, raising an eyebrow at the sight of their guest as they entered.

Cassandra’s hand dropped to the pommel of her sword, a reflex.

She shook her head, raising her hand, “Actually, that was on my behalf.”

“You,” Cassandra nearly spat, “I have never seen _you_ before.”

“So suspicious Cassandra,” Leliana cooed, “There is no reason for incivility. I’m sure our guest would be happy to explain how she gained entrance to a private office not accessible to the public.”

She sighed. “It is a simple thing. I willed myself to be here, and so I was.”

“Explain,” Cassandra’s demanded, voice rigid and hand tightening on her sword.

“A demonstration, I think would be better.” There she disappeared, and then reappeared a few moments later.

“You are a demon,” the Seeker yelled, arming herself to attack.

“Sit down,” she said, and the three women were instantly seated at the desk.

Leliana yelled out “Maker preserve us!” in tandem with Cassandra’s “By the Maker!” as they tried to stand but found themselves unable to move, panic set in, mixing with rage.

“Calm down please. I’ll release you as soon as I’m sure you won’t try to attack me. And no, you don’t have the power to hurt me. I’d just rather avoid you injuring yourselves unnecessarily.”

They looked at her, dumbfounded, a mixture of anger, fear, and awe.

“Now, if you would behave, we can get things underway.”

The three women found themselves again able to move, but after a brief consideration opted to stay in their chairs. She knew them enough to know they were not fools.

“Please let me finish before you interrupt, and I promise I will answer whatever questions you have.”

She waited, looking at them eagerly, and eventually they began to nod.

“I have powers not of the world, but I am not a mage, nor am I a god. I am merely someone who wants to help and is capable of doing so. The conflicts you are facing will only escalate if left unchecked, and unless serious changes are made, this world will eventually devolve into chaos. I believe we would all like to avoid that, yes?”

She paused, waiting for them to again nod in agreement.

“This next part will be hard to accept, because it will seem too fantastic, but I promise you that it is the truth. Somewhere in Thedas, an ancient magister has twisted into an immortal darkspawn. He would see this world he hates unmade. His name is Corypheus. Lucky for you, I know how to kill him. For a price, I will help you slay the monster and see peace restored where war looms overhead.”

She stopped there, a chair appearing under her as she sat down. She inclined her head at the Divine and her Hands, letting them know they were free to speak. She was not surprised that Leliana was first to break the silence.

“You say there is an evil monster that only you can save us from, do you expect us to be blind to the convenience of that?”

“I have no ties to Corypheus, but I don’t expect you to trust my word.”

“How generous!” Cassandra was _mad_ , mad enough that her mouth was ignoring her self-preservation instinct.

She smiled despite herself, breathing out small laugh. “The truth is that I am not from here, from Thedas, I mean. I’ve only just arrived, and Corypheus has existed since he his brethren violated the sanctity of the Golden City, unleashing the Blight. I might walk the Fade and let spirits share the most ancient of memories with me, but my knowledge would still be the same as it is now, just a story. Unfortunately, it’s one that happens to be true.”

“Let us say we believe you,” Cassandra began again, her voice calmer this time, “What is the cost of your help?”

“I am on a mission to save Thedas. It is my intention to free those who are oppressed, bring peace to those who would fight, and to offer all peoples hope for a brighter future than they would have otherwise.”

“A bold sentiment to be sure,” Leliana offered, “But even if we believed you, how could you ever hope to accomplish such a task?”

“I require help, that’s why I’m here. We would need people _everywhere_ , building the foundations and laying each individual brick. Even with the power at my disposal, I could never hope to accomplish this on my own, and it would not be much of a revolution if the people were not involved. I might bind everyone who would oppose me to a chair, but I have no sway over their hearts or their minds. And if I did, to deny people a choice, to rob them of their will… it would be a violation of everything I believe, of everything I am.”

No one spoke for quite a while, it was a lot to process. She would give them as much time as they needed. Only a strong mind could reconcile itself with all she’d told them. At length, the Divine herself finally had something to say.

“I do not know that I can trust you - your words are extraordinary, and perhaps I am a foolish old woman for wanting to believe them, but I do. Perhaps you are a demon come to tempt us, or maybe you are a divine gift. We will need time to sort through things, and to investigate. If you are in earnest, you will whatever assistance I or my people can provide. That is the best I can offer.”

She bent at the waist, inclining her head. “I am humbled, your Holiness, truly, and I thank you for listening with an open mind and heart. Time is not unlimited, but you will have as much as you need. I also took the liberty of drawing up a list of names - people I think would be instrumental in aiding us, when the time comes. I know none of them personally, but their reputations precede them. Your people, I’m sure, will have them necessarily vetted. I welcome anyone and everyone you can think of, as well.”

Justinia offered her a nod. The Hands were caught up in silent contemplation.

“Farewell for now,” she told them, a faint tone ringing out as she disappeared, like a distant choir. _Sometimes theatrics are appropriate and even necessary_ , she thought. It was often best to provide a minimal framework, and to let people fill in the pieces themselves.


	4. The Bird Who Cried Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They share a deeply intimate moment, and some hidden things are revealed. Lots of Solas exposition, feels, and angst.

She made herself seem benign, aiding him through the waking process, and lulling him into a false sense of security just to rip the rug from beneath his feet. She was dangerous, of that he was sure, and he needed to tread very carefully. The problem was that none of the cards up his sleeve would work, because she seemed to know what each one of them was. She knew he wanted the orb, _his orb_ , and she had spirited it away only to _ask_ for his help. There was no doubt in his mind that she was not asking.

 _I’ll give you a few days to think it over,_ she had said, conjuring a banquet of food out of thin air with no visible effort. How did she possess such powers? Where did they come from? Was she somehow bypassing the veil? The wolf wanted to snap her between its jaws, but even if he had the power to transform, every advantage was hers. Could she have stolen the power from the evanuris? He imagined them trapped, safely out of reach, but he had been wrong before. He hoped for the sake of the world that was not the case – freeing them was far too dangerous, they were almost completely unpredictable. But, the veil was intact, so they must still be locked away. He sighed, the slightest bit relieved.

They had called him the trickster god, for his ability to manipulate, but could she be manipulated? Every possible method of deceiving her that occurred to him he instantly rejected because it would be too obvious; she would recognize it immediately. No penitence or friendship or hope of pretending. What avenue remained for him then? She said she’d make no demands on him, but she must be fully aware that taking his orb would tether him to her.

If she did not want the power, or did not need it – how powerful was she, exactly? She obviously knew what he planned to do with it, and with her talk of saving the world, if she had been in earnest, she’d never give it back to him. What should he do? What _could_ he do? _The Great Betrayer_ bested at his own game. He was furious. He might’ve tried and failed to tear her to shreds if she still stood before him, and he could not be certain that she was not watching now.

He’d thought about not eating the food, but his pride did not go to that foolish an extent… or did it? He had looked scrutinizingly over the offerings and it did all look, _and smell_ delicious. The frilly little _cake_ , over a thousand years was far too long to go without one. And why were these the things she chose out of all the options at her disposal? Did she think most people woke up after a millennia and wanted sweets? His philosophy was to look on coincidence with a healthy dose of skepticism, and with her, he was certain that everything was part of some greater strategy.

A thought tugged at the corners of his mind as he resigned himself to eating – she reminded him of himself, and that is what made him so uneasy. That would mean she was a true rival; one he might not be able to best. _Fine, if follow I must, then follow I shall, at least until the opportunity to do otherwise arises._ He had no hope of that happening soon.

He couldn’t help himself but to take just a small bite out of the cake, and the moment it hit his taste buds, the pleasure center of his brain was overloaded, his eyes closing. The texture, the flavor; the aroma, it was _perfect_. It was so good that some tiny part of him was glad of his situation. He wondered if he couldn’t feed that part to the wolf as he crushed the rest of the pastry beneath his foot. If she had hoped to use this to sway him in even the smallest measure, she would have to be disappointed.

All of the food was more than good, if he was being honest, but it was just food – nothing more than a way to sustain the body, and he would savor none of it. Let it all go to waste before lest he be taken in by any of her tricks. He picked it over for the next three days, eating much of it, and as if according to plan, that was when she returned.

Casually she walked towards him, as though they were old friends; stopping within an arm’s distance. As she moved to sit down, a chair simply appeared beneath her. Her face betrayed nothing, but she was clearly toying with him.

“You look much better, Wolf,” she told him, feigning relief.

“I have not the power yet to be the wolf, which I believe you know.” His features hardened.

“… Then would you rather I called you something else?” That damned too intense gaze was boring into him again.

“I would _rather_ not be under this imposition.” He was being a bit of a brat, but he wanted to see what would happen if he pushed her.

“And I would rather that circumstances didn’t dictate its necessity, but that is an impasse we neither of can remove.”

He huffed, minutely, “I believe I am being held at the neck by a leash of your making, am I not?”

“No, you are not,” she said, her voice boldening, “If there is a collar around your neck, it is one of your own make, Fen’Harel.”

“That name causes me no injury, if that is your intention, witch.”

“I am not a witch, and there is no part of me that would intentionally harm you.” The intensity of her eyes was softening, here. He barked out a laugh.

“Your actions and your intentions are quite at odds then, it seems.”

She bowed her head slightly, looking sad? “Something we have in common I am afraid.” His mouth dropped open suddenly and then clamped shut, jaw tightening. His eyes were wide. She… he had nothing to concede!

“The sacrifices I would make are necessary.” Why was he being so candid with her?

“You would sacrifice that which is not yours to give.” Her gaze was sharpening into his again.

“There is no other viable path.”

“You are a prideful old fool.” She jumped to her feet and turned away from him, and anger rose up behind his eyes. She could not know, could not understand, there were no other options left.

“And what, pray tell, are you?”

\----

She felt the smile pulling at her lips, and the tips quirked up the smallest bit. It was not a happy smile.

“I am not so different from you, I suppose. Though I would never presume to wear the mantle you aspire to.”

“And yet, did you not say you needed my help to _save Thedas?_ How have you behaved so differently?!” His tone was sharp, cutting.

She turned back to him, let him see – she didn’t care. “I would save where you would destroy. I see what is and what could be, where you see only what _was_.” Her eyes were stinging now; it would not take much more. “This world may be imperfect, but when you break something, it can never be fixed. Any child that has ever dropped a glass knows this truth. Yet you, for all your years have not the wisdom of a child?” She closed her eyes, but felt a few tears escape down her cheeks.

He didn’t speak, but she could feel him there, thinking. Would her words have any hope of getting through? He couldn’t possibly trust her enough to believe was she was saying, even if it was the truth. He’d be too certain that her every action was a cleverly devised machination. She could plot in such a way if she needed to, but she hadn’t, and she wouldn’t. She may enjoy a dance here or there, like a game of chess, but great trickery was his modus operandi, not hers.

Suddenly, he fell to his knees, arms sagging on the floor at either side of him. She knelt down, cradling his head in her hands. It was both reflex and instinct. The pain radiated off him – she could feel it seeking escape, so she braced herself and let it in.

“What… are you doing?” he whispered, pain having overtaken his strength.

“I would heal you, but it would be against your will, so instead I am taking whatever pain will freely come out of you into myself.”

“Don’t,” it was an order, but one she would not, could not obey. Her tears were coming freely now as she pulled him into her chest. He resisted at first, but the pain weighed too heavily and he gave in. He needed the comfort but he did not want it – did not deserve it and would never accept it. Casting judgment was not in her nature, but soothing, helping, and protecting were. He needed this so badly, and she _could_ heal his heart, but only if he would allow it. She knew he never would, and she understood why. In his place, she would feel the same.

For a little while his body was limp, totally spent, but then he’d grabbed her by the waist and was squeezing a bit too tightly. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but she’d give him whatever he would take. It was something.

His tears were slow to fall, having spent years steeling himself against them, but now they were soaking the front of her robes. It was fair play, her own now traced a path down his scalp and the back of his neck, probably seeping into the collar of his shirt. He began to rock against her gently, the pain so violent as to make his entire body hurt. No, she would not heal him, but she could not do nothing. She tilted her head toward the sky, making a conduit of herself, and immediately felt the overwhelming rush of peace and love flow through her – strong enough even to overwhelm this pain.

Carefully, she let it radiate off her, the minutest amount she could manage, warming his skin wherever their bodies were touching. She felt him pull away by a fraction of an inch, so she held him tighter and he gave in. Even if he would let himself have nothing, he needed it so deeply that he had no choice but to accept. She was offering only the smallest comfort, after all. Eventually his head found her lap, and he drifted into sleep. _Ir abelas_ , she almost whispered, her every molecule aching to do more. Instead, she simply dragged idle patterns along the side of his face and scalp with gentle fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually ended up splitting this because it was going on too long, so there will be more plot in the next chapter. I think.


	5. A Piece of Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an awkward wake up, cuddling with your adversary.
> 
> Tentative plans are made, and alliances are formed.

He came to feeling disoriented, foggy. His knees were bent beneath him, and something heavy pressed on his head and back – it was moving, breathing. It was… her? His arms were wrapped about her waist, feeling very stiff. When he finally moved, his body would no doubt reward him for his weakness. She was his enemy, for all intents and purposes, and he had just laid himself bare before her. He would sort through it all later, he decided, but now he needed to stretch his limbs.

When he started to shift she made a small “mmmmm” of protest, her fingers pressing into his sides and pulling herself tighter against him. He was very suddenly aware that her breasts were smashing into the side of his head and part of his face. It was extremely awkward because that tiny part of himself he hated remarked on their softness as they sought to suffocate him.

He straightened out his arms, letting out a sharp hiss, slowly bending at the elbows to place his hands on her stomach, pushing her off. With a soft “uhhh” she snapped upwards, surprised. One of her eyes had partially opened, her hair was mussed and splayed wildly, and the top of her robe had fallen open. When she swayed forward momentarily, he did not have time to avert his gaze, and he had seen… something he should not have.

She was off him now and so he began the process of unbending his legs. Standing was out of the question, his knees were far too stiff. When he tried, the resounding OW had woken her fully. She looked at him, it was odd to see her like this – she might be mistaken for a simple human, eyes bleary with sleep and not piercing into his soul. She looked at him curiously, opened her eyes more fully, and realization dawned.

“Please excuse me,” she said, her appearance suddenly immaculate again, having said the words. That was not a trick he’d mind having right then. She seemed to ascertain his situation and looked at him, large eyes somehow _soft._

“May I?” she asked, extending a hand tentatively toward his legs. He couldn’t say the words to her, so he merely nodded. This was a humiliation he could bear. Immediately the stiffness and aching in his body receded, filling him with warmth. It lasted longer than he anticipated, past the point where he was able to straighten his legs and stretch – it was a powerful sensation increasing in magnitude and making him feel light, like me might be lifted from the ground.

Then it stopped suddenly, her eyes looking away. Had she given him more than she intended? She seemed to be caught up in whatever it was. It was not like healing magic at all, and he was desperate to know the source of it. If he could somehow tap into that power, he might not even need the orb.

She was standing, combing fingers idly through her hair. Not a strand was out of place now, so he didn’t see a reason, but he also couldn’t help noticing that he rather preferred her the other way – that part of him _really_ needed to go. Perhaps it was because she had seemed so ordinary, and now there was no mistaking her for a normal person. She was like him – both more and less at once, at least that’s how it felt. It was getting difficult to avoid the tiniest feeling of kinship, but he would, because she could not be trusted. No, he would not draw any parallels between them.

\----

She’d fallen asleep embracing him! How had that happened? One minute she was offering him comfort and the next minute she’d dozed off, essentially on top of him. She admonished herself, this was not acceptable behavior! She thought that she’d managed to push her feelings aside, but here they were, creeping up and weaseling their way to the surface. They’d be spending a lot of time together in the future, and she was better than this. The way he’d looked at her though, his eyes not burning with hatred… it felt _so_ good. And now, his mask was screwed on tight.

He probably needed a little space since she certainly did, so she walked to the table, freshly laid out with food, and began to pick at a little cake. The picking devolved into a wanton lack of propriety as she greedily bit into it, devouring every last morsel. When she was halfway through the second cake, he finally broke the silence.

“It might be helpful if you told me your name.”

“My na- Oh!” she breathed a small laugh, reluctantly abandoning her parcel. “You know, it hadn’t even occurred to me.” That was thoughtless of her.

“Well,” he gestured, expectantly.

“Ean’u. You can call me Ean’u.”

\----

 _Elvish_? That seemed noteworthy; not even the courtesy of believable fake name, then.

“And where did you come by such a name?”

“Oh, you know, around.” She smiled, raising her eyebrows; toying with him again.

“And the significance, I assume, you do not plan to share.”

“You assume correctly.”

“I feel I would be remiss if I did not offer some _friendly_ advice.” Her face quirked up in amusement. “When you wish for people to respond in a cooperative manner, it is best to grant them a few provisions. You offer them things, and they will wish to return the favor.”

“Very true, but in this case, I think you would behave exactly as cooperative or uncooperative either way, so such tactics are unnecessary.” He let out a huffed breath. “That said, you could always take your own advice - offer me a few _provisions_ and maybe I’ll feel inclined to reciprocate.”

 _I have given you too much already_ , he thought, _the last thing I would do is give you more._

“I’ll take your silence as a no. Another impasse, it seems. Shall we move on, then?” She was looking at him expectantly, but he just stared in silence.

“Well, I’ve made the first move towards an alliance with arguably the most influential group of humans,” an acknowledgement that she was not one? “but there is still much work to do in securing it. Among the top of my priorities is halting the slave trade to Seheron and Tevinter, but I’m not certain how I want to go about it.”

He let out a mirthless laugh. “And you expect this to be a successful endeavor?”

“I have no doubt it will be, it’s just a matter of determining how to do it with as little bloodshed as possible, particularly for said slaves.”

He may not trust her or be thrilled with their arrangement, but he did have to acknowledge the worthiness of her goal. Foolhardy to be sure, something he knew all too well, having sought to do the same himself once. She would learn. It would be an ugly and brutal lesson, and he would be forced to watch.

He sighed, “I suppose I might indulge you.”

“ _Ma serannas,_ Wolf,” she offered, voice edged with sarcasm. He was not certain he appreciated his mother tongue when it fell from her lips, plush as they were. _What? **No.**_ _Where had that even come from?_

“The two most obvious choices are force and subterfuge. I could drop down into Minrathous and demand that slavery be made illegal,” what did she mean that she ‘could drop down’? “but that would require me to kill a great many people.”

“People that would have no such reserve for anyone with ears shaped different from their own.”

“People nonetheless. I suppose I could also do a similar thing by interrupting the assembly of magisters, but the result would likely be the same.”

“And you would have to find your way inside, which would, I am certain, prove difficult.”

“I have my ways.” _Of course you do,_ he thought, _and you will keep them to yourself as long as possible._ All he had to do to read her motivation was to imagine their positions reversed. It was a disconcerting thought.

“The other way, of course, is to simply spirit them all away. That does however have the problems of being much slower and more difficult. No matter what I do, any course of action will result in harsh penalties enacted upon the slaves.”

“And you would do such a thing how? Hire a team of especially talented rogues? It would take them decades, if they did not all die first. Or, am I to suppose that you _have your ways?_ ” He rolled his eyes to the side, scoffing.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a real god, Dread Wolf, your lack of faith is astounding!” At this he growled under his breath.  “I did not say it would be easy, only that I believed success was possible. If it must be by bloodshed, then I will resign myself to it, but it is a choice I make only when there is no alternative.”

“A level of morality most leaders are unable to retain.”

“Fortunate then that I am not a leader.” The words might as well have fallen from his own mouth; it irritated him profusely. She would most assuredly be proven wrong.

“Whether or not you wish to be has little bearing on whether or not you will be.”

“I will not be. I will guide those who would lead, but I have no place among them.”

“We shall see,” he replied, turning away with his hands clasped behind his back. _We shall see, indeed._

“Since you apparently have nothing helpful to add, I think perhaps it’s time we reconvened with the humans. Have you any objections?”

He’d taken a seat in one of the chairs, picking at some bread. “Would it matter?”

“Mmm, a little. I would not force you if you absolutely refused, but I know that you won’t.”

“Then it is decided.”

“Is there anything you want to do before we leave, or is now a good time?”

“As much as any other.”

No sooner had he said the words than they were suddenly no longer in the temple. Bedchambers of some sort, rather opulent, with a woman sat in a chair reading a book.

“Shall I assume this is one of your _ways?_ ” he asked, the woman rising with a start. She ignored him.

\----

She had expected to find the Divine in her office, but it seemed she’d retired for the evening early. A day would not be too much to postpone, if now was inconvenient. Time, in general, was not terribly important excepting that they would save more lives and prevent more suffering by beginning as quickly as possible.

“Your Holiness,” she bowed minutely, “Excuse me, I assumed you’d be in your office. Should we return tomorrow?”

“I don’t know that I will ever get used to that. But, I suppose expecting you to ask for an audience at reception would be too much.”

“While I am unaccustomed to such civilities, I could adopt them, I suppose. Given the importance of the task before us, I had concluded that haste would be prudent.” Was it her imagination, or did Solas scoff?

“So you assume that we’ve agreed to your alliance?” The look in the old woman’s eyes knowing.

“I would feel terribly silly showing up like this if you had not.” She offered her a friendly smile. “But I know how much you wish things could change, so it seemed unlikely that when presented with the opportunity that you’d turn it down.”

“You would do very well in Orlesian politics, I think.”

“I do enjoy fanciful hats, but I think that would be the extent of it.”

"And not quite as grand a calling." They shared a pleasant smile, not yet on comfortable territory, but confident they would get there. Solas had stood mostly still, hands kept behind his back, mapping his surroundings and casually listening to their conversation.

“If you would ring the bell by the door, a servant can fetch Leliana and Cassandra.” She had directed it at Solas, a grave mistake since she would need his respect.

“Of course,” he acquiesced, feigning obeisance. She didn’t like it.

“He is not my servant. He is also much older than he looks, and is more than worthy of your respect.” His mask was in place, but his eyes flashed with a hint of something she didn’t recognize.

“Yes, I am sorry, I should not have assumed.”

“I would hope that you included elves in the people you wanted to help, Holiness. If perhaps I was mistaken, then I think our goals are not so aligned as I thought.”

“You are right,” she offered dejectedly, “That was wrong of me. Being Orlesian, we so rarely see elves as anything other than servants. That is one thing I would like to see changed.” Solas might be willing to look past her transgression, after all. She offered her a small nod.

A servant came and went off to retrieve the rest of their little troupe. Leliana and Cassandra arrived not long after, the first looking rather amused, and the latter looking shocked and a little put off. No doubt meetings in the Divine’s bedroom were an uncommon affair.

When she’d introduced everyone, they looked at her expectantly. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting about that. You may call me Ean’u.”

“That’s quite pretty,” chirped Leliana, “what does it mean?”

“Little bird.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumbler is [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/) if you want it. i welcome questions and prompts.


	6. Tossed Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all aid is given willingly, and not all partnerships are friendly. Life is better when you visit friends, whether they're old or new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter is fluffy and ridiculous, but I think we could all use some of that now and then. The title is also terrible, but when a certain scene happened, I knew that's what I had to call it. Tel'abelas! I never am.

“This is not a negotiation, Ambassador.” Josephine’s politeness was wearing thin.

“Then I cannot offer my eluvians.” The Antivan woman responded with a sharp intake of breath. It was time to interject – this was getting nowhere.

“Miss Montilyet, I thank you for your effort, but I think I can take it from here.” She looked relieved, nodding; eager to be done with this conversation.

“Yes, my lady.” She gave a small bow and then left the room.

“I’m disappointed in you, Briala.” _How can you be so selfish?_ thought Ean’u. “You claim to care about your people, but are only willing to offer aid if strings are attached. This kind of self-serving behavior is exactly why Thedas is in such disparate circumstances.”

“I _am_ looking out for my people. You make grand promises but I have no guarantee. I need to know that I will be getting something for my assistance.”

“ _Fen’Harel enasal,_ Briala.” The elven woman’s eyes widened, mouth dropping minutely and then quickly shutting.

“I would be very interested to know how you came by that information.”

“Not through your people, if that’s what you were wondering. It’s knowledge I always had, but I hoped you would be reasonable. We can either share the eluvians, or the network can be taken from you.”

“Then I am left with no choice.” Briala gave a perfunctory bow and left the room.

This was not something she enjoyed – forcing someone’s hand. Freedom was so important, and yet was she not exerting her will over another? How can you fight to free everyone and in doing so bully some into submission? This was not an unexpected situation, and would likely be only the first of many, but to treat it casually was impossible. To let such a thing slide was to normalize it, to make it acceptable, and to mistake yourself for someone with rights over another. Solas had made that mistake, but she would not, could not. Not ever.

The door opened, Josephine entering. “The ambassador has left, shall I conclude that an agreement was reached?”

“She has seen her way to our side of things,” she responded cryptically, regret seeping into her tone.

“That is excellent!” Josie smiled, excitedly, her voice rising. “I shall inform the Divine at once.” She offered her a small curtsey and excused herself. She supposed it was time to see the Wolf.

\----

“Briala has agreed to aid us,” she said, suddenly appearing before him. Unsettling that he was becoming accustomed to the lack of privacy.

“I don’t imagine you left her much choice. Tell me, was it her idea or did you give her a little direction?” She bowed her head, lips curving into a pained smile. He’d struck a blow, good.

“Does it please you, Wolf,” curious that she called him Solas only when they were not alone… “to know I am no better a person than you?”

That was surprisingly cutting. Now it was his turn to bow his head – not only had he taken a petty pleasure in prodding a spot he knew was sore, he caused her real pain. For all his skill at reading people, it seemed he had got her wrong. She had seemed so self-righteous, and it annoyed him, but they appeared to be both more and less alike than he previously thought.

“No.”

“Well that’s a shame, at least one of us might’ve gotten something good out of this. But, it’s not important. The situation is resolved and another allegiance is won, even if not so fairly. I know enough of the ambassador to know that she does care about her people, so whatever hard feelings she has now, they will not remain indefinitely.”

“Perhaps,” why was he trying to make her doubt herself? When had he become cruel? “and perhaps not.”

“Have I done something to you, besides the obvious, to make you treat me this way? I am not only civil, but I am kind. You know that the choices I make are made in the name of duty, it’s not possible that you of all people could fail to understand my position. And yet you snipe at me with your words. It’s something I never imagined you capable of.”

“Maybe you should not presume such a level of familiarity with me, then.” She was not wrong, but something about her brought out the worst in him. He did not understand it, or maybe he did, and just did not want to admit it.

“You are right, I was mistaken. I have things to attend to; I expect you don’t require anything? I’d ask how things are with your network of spies, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. You will help or you won’t, right now I’m not certain that I care.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she was gone. The self-recrimination was already gnawing on his insides and threatening to devour him whole. Of all the people he had hurt or killed or betrayed, in all his life he had only ever been cruel to one person, and that was himself.

He shook his head, these were thoughts he need not examine further. The knowledge was there, wheedling into his mind at the edges, but he would shut it out as long as was possible. None of it made any sense, and it was far better to focus on more pressing matters.

He had been regaining his strength far too slowly; magics that once were as simple as breathing now were beyond his abilities altogether. And her, with her strange powers just flitting about as she pleased with nary an effort, throwing it in his face. There was no way to take them from her, so far as he was able to discern, and she was hardly forthcoming. He didn’t begrudge her that, her unwillingness to share her secrets. They were not exactly on friendly terms, but it was still insufferably irksome.

Why had she needed him anyway? She had more than enough power on her own and had secured alliances without his assistance. More often than not he was left with excess time on his hands, sometimes filling it only with waiting. Desperate as he was to move forward with his plans, patience was a virtue the elvhen possessed in abundance.

A few weeks had passed at least, and she had not returned, it was unexpected. She was never gone more than a few days at a time, and he wondered if it was even possible for something to have happened to her. Could she be killed? Even elvhen were not invulnerable, and though she obviously possessed immense power, he’d never seen her in battle. What if she was surprised or overwhelmed, was her death a possibility?

That was an interesting prospect, since it would put her out of his hair, but then he’d have no hope of regaining the orb. He wondered if he should seek out Mythal, for the confidence of her company if nothing else. He had not seen her since before she died, a thought that still inspired a surge of pain in his chest and had to be avoided. There were far too many memories attached to it that would eagerly drown him if permitted.

\----

Visiting Tevinter was always disheartening, but Dorian and Feynriel had become a little bastion of domesticity. They treated her like a person, despite everything, and she cherished their friendship. It was painful to be here, and lonely, to be cut off from her family. This was her choice, and she did not regret it, but this place could never feel like home.

She knew how Solas felt, his world lost, though their situations were very different. Her people were still alive, her home a place of peace and beauty, but the actions her heart demanded left her feeling much the way she imagined he did.

There were so many things she couldn’t remember, because that was the way of it when you were gone – precious secrets that you’d be unable to tell if you no longer knew them. It was a mercy to still have her powers, she was being generously indulged, and she was thankful. This world was a place her kind did not belong and had no right to meddle in, and yet she was. She _had_ to, a compulsion that would not be denied, and it all revolved around him. It was a feeling she had not known herself capable of.

“Is everything alright?” Dorian asked, she had lost track of their meal at some point.

“Yes, I am fine, thank you.”

“You don’t have to pretend when you’re with us, you know, En,” Feynriel offered her a small smile.

She shook her head, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m being terrible company today.”

“Are you thinking about that Solas fellow again, what is it between you anyway? Sex not cutting it anymore?” She spat out her tea, opening her mouth to respond, but unable to find her voice. She grabbed a cookie from the table and threw it, hitting him square in the forehead.

“Ow! You forget how strong you are!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Dorian!” she lifted her arm in his direction and basked him in a healing glow, the energy at once soothing and like a stabbing pain inside her.

“You will have to show me how you do that someday,” his eyebrow rising.

“I don’t think she can,” Feynriel offered, “Her magic isn’t of the Fade.”

“So you keep saying, but someone had to teach her.”

“I’m afraid it’s an inborn ability, but it would be far too dangerous to share anyway.”

“Your lack of faith wounds me,” he jibed, hand clutching his breast.

“I have cookies and I’m not afraid to use them.” He lifted his hands to cover his face, fingers slitting to show his mock-fear.

“Don’t the two of you ever tire of having this conversa -,” Feynrial began, rolling his eyes. He was rewarded with a cookie in his still open mouth, effectively shutting him up.

Dorian had grabbed his own cookie then, launching it into air in her direction. She transported her body out of its path and then back into her seat.

“Tsk tsk, cheating like that... They grow up so fast.” Dorian teased; she inclined her head.

“As wonderful as you are, the idea of you influencing my behavior is terrifying,” she stuck out her tongue.

“I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” Feynriel quipped, “you don’t talk about yourself nearly enough for that.” He dodged just in time to avoid the confectionary projectile Dorian had lobbed at him.

“He has a point,” she laughed, picking up a cookie and eating it. This time when he threw, she let it hit her. Not bad aim either, right to the side of the head. She lifted a hand, flicking crumbs out of her hair.

“Now, was that so hard?” Dorian teased as another cookie got her on the other side. They both turned to look at Feynriel, suddenly.

“What?” he asked, innocent look on his face. This meant war.

“Wait, no,” Dorian warned, “I know that look. Whatever you’re about to do, don’t!” He and Feynriel put up barriers just in time to stop the rain of cookies suddenly pouring down on their heads. She just sipped her tea, smiling. They were more or less buried now, and the room was a ridiculous mess. It had been a diversion she sorely needed, taking her mind off everything she either shouldn’t or did not wish to think about.

“I’m not cleaning this up,” he declared, brushing crumbs his face. Feynriel had opted to just eat the sugary precipitation instead.

“Make me do all the work, I see how it is.”

“You’re the one who made the mess!”

“I fail to see how that’s relevant.”

“But can’t you just magic all the mess away? What’s the problem?” Feynriel’s earnestness was adorable. She put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

She decided that was the perfect time to disappear, waiting a few moments afterwards before returning the room to rights. Leaving the mess might not have been something she’d do, but she’d let them think she had for a minute. Just picturing the looks on their faces was enough.

\----

“It has been a long time, old friend.” The embrace she offered was overwhelmingly comforting. He had not been touched since the morning he’d woken up with Ean’u… but that was not something to dwell on.

“I cannot express how good it is to see you.” He smiled against her shoulder, eyes closing in relief.

“Certainly took your time about it, Dread Wolf. You’ve been awake for months now.”

“You are right, of course, my apologies. I have been preoccupied.” He offered a small bow as they parted.

“Yes, a little bird told me you were helping to _save the world._ ” His mouth dropped open, brow furrowing.

“…How did…?” Her smile grew wider.

“An interesting creature to be sure, I should not have entrusted my sentinels to just anyone.” _The sentinels?!_ She was keeping a great many secrets indeed. That was one he could not simply ignore.

“Of course,” his face placid.

“Ah, I see she has not told you.” He sighed, shaking his head. There was no use in pretending with her, but at this point the mask was a reflex.

“It would seem the _little bird_ keeps a great many secrets.” On this, at least, he would most assuredly confront her.

“Do not judge her too harshly, the burdens she carries are heavy indeed.”

“And what do you know of her burdens?” Had she confided in Mythal, or perhaps exposed herself in some way? Would his old friend tell him if she had? He was desperate for the information being denied to him, and had come across no way to ferret it out.

“Have you not seen her eyes? I would think you’d recognize the look by now. Besides, she carries you, does she not?“ What was she suggesting? This was… he did not understand.

“Carries me?” It was all he could say, his thoughts a disorganized jumble incapable of being picked apart.

“In time you will come to understand,” she smiled at him knowingly. The role of the cryptic old woman suited her perhaps a little too well. And yet she was still the same Mythal, mired in the strange dichotomy of a vital spirit and a withered form.

She moved in to embrace him again, their foreheads pressed together, a too soon lost closeness. When she left, she disappeared into a cloud of smoke; it seemed he was resigned to this type of farewell, though he could not say which woman’s exit was more of a spectacle.

When he made it back to the temple, Ean’u was sitting at a table waiting for him. It seemed she’d neglected to observe her appearance – she looked unharmed but was covered in some kind of dust. He took a seat across from her, picking a chunk of something out of her hair, it was… a piece of a _cookie?_

Her eyes zeroed in on the fragment, going wide with realization. He blinked and she was instantly immaculate again. That was… bizarre. What exactly had she been doing, and what did it have to do with saving Thedas? It was such a peculiar situation, an unguarded glimpse of her always puzzling. Or was it truly an accident, at all? He had to remember that she was clever and lied at least be omission in each of their interactions. Just because the redness spreading across her cheeks was oddly charming, he would not be disarmed. This changed nothing.

“The Sentinels,” he said coolly, face bereft of emotion, “I understand they have been entrusted to you.”  
  
“What of them?” The self-consciousness gone, replaced by her default look of measured politeness.

“Have you nothing to say?” She knew how he would feel about this, and was acting like he had no right to be upset.

“Not on this subject, no,” she stated plainly, smoothing out her robes despite them already being devoid wrinkles.

“That is not satisfactory.” His arms were folded across his chest now, irritation rising up.

“You offer me nothing, so I shall offer nothing in return. What was it you said, get your subject to open up by opening up yourself?”

“And you said it was pointless, I believe.”

“That’s because I don’t trust you.”

"Nor I you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/) if you want it. i welcome questions and prompts.
> 
> don't hesitate to point out grammar and spelling errors.


	7. One Fish, Two Fish, Coryphyfish, Blue Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's go on a Deep Roads expedition. It's time to take down the magister who would be a god!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing fight scenes, huzzah!

So much to do, and there would be so much to do for a long time yet, but the imminent threat of Corypheus weighed heavily on her mind. Without Solas’ orb, he was much less dangerous, but an unkillable darkspawn magister with aspirations of godhood was not a thing to trifle with.

It would be easier to fight him alone; without risk to any of her much needed allies, but battle was a bonding experience and fighting alongside each other was necessary for building a rapport. No, going alone was impossible now, especially since she’d told them of her plans. Solas would need to stay behind of course, he was not yet strong enough to be useful, and it wasn’t worth the risk of revealing more of herself and feeding his curiosity.

Hawke had demanded to be taken along, furious about failing to kill him the first time, and that meant some of their companions would be coming as well. She was eager for Trevelyan to prove herself, in hopes that she would still one day be a great leader; so she was going. The Divine was sending Cullen and Cassandra, and a few of the sentinels had planned to join their party as well.

Unsurprisingly, Dorian had expressed interest, but he was better off where he was; her personal attachment notwithstanding, every Tevinter ally was too precious to risk. It was unlikely anyone would be lost, but being unable see the future, she preferred not to take unnecessary chances.

She had gone ahead of the group before they traveled in order to first find Corypheus, and then to gauge the situation. She found him in a long-abandoned part of the deep roads, his dragon nowhere to be seen. It would be difficult to get everyone here, but the long path was more or less necessary.

She could transport them all, she supposed, but the journey was just as important as the destination. It was a small shame to not be bringing the Wolf, because it was good for him to walk among mortals, but that level of trust was something he might never earn.

To him, they were all still less than people, just small, little insects scurrying about and too temporary to take notice of. He did not understand that it was the looming inevitability of death that made quicklings so vibrant and precious. In a few short decades they could live much more than an immortal might in thousands of years, their vitality a humbling thing to witness.

Like him she was separate from these people, coming from a world where nothing was hurried and every whim could be indulged by simply willing it. Unlike him however, she found them to be beautiful partly _because_ of the fleeting nature of their existence. She would protect them, both from him and from each other.

 

\----

 

She had apparently formed some kind of expedition, the purpose of which was not entirely clear. He recalled her mentioning a twisted creature that required dealing with, was it truly more than she was capable of on her own? _No,_ he thought, _she brings them to draw them closer; to cement the bonds of allegiance._ It was clever, turning an inconvenient situation into a tool to further her purposes. She was skilled at such manipulations, a trait they shared, and like him it was always used to further a goal and not out of amusement.

He respected her, he realized, begrudging as he felt to admit it. She truly cared about people, even as she was compelled to influence them against their will. The similarities between them made it impossible to not feel connected to her the more they interacted, and it was maddening. He had a duty to The People, and what she intended had nothing to do with righting his past wrongs. The worst part was that he _knew_ she understood him and that knowledge was simultaneously precious and painful.

For all her good intentions and the power at her disposal, ruination was likely to be the end result. She claimed to realize they were not so different, but still imagined herself better equipped to make world-altering decisions than he was.

It was another thing they had in common, both believing ardently that the other was wrong. He would see this through, however, if only because she’d left him no other option. Then, when she was forced to face the same pain he daily endured, he could enact the plans she’d delayed. Perhaps then she would even help him; for now he would simply wait.

 

\----

 

There were an alarming number of darkspawn coming in from all sides, but they were not so far from their quarry. She was extremely powerful to be sure, but she could not be everywhere and see everything at once. They needed a better plan of action if they were all coming out of this alive.

“Everyone behind me!” she called, hand reaching up and suddenly gripping a mighty sword. She spun it in a circle and then cast it downwards, rending everything in its path with a fury of white flame.

“Andraste’s tits!” called Varric, “What was that!?”

“I don’t know,” shouted Hawke, cleaving the head from a genlock, “I’m just glad she’s on our side!”

“Press forward while the path is clear, let us not delay!” Leave it to Cullen to take on a leadership role in battle. It was useful, because now was not the time to answer questions.

“As you say,” Evelyn agreed, charging forward with daggers raised high, curiously attentive to Cullen. Ean’u hoped something would come of it; he was a good man and deserved happiness. It was much easier to find no doubt, in a world without the breach.

Charging herself with the brunt of the killing, things went much more smoothly. She hoped they’d all proven their might sufficiently to one another, but there would be many battles to yet fight either way.

They raced breakneck down the wide path, a rumbling beneath their feet urging them not to tarry. Suddenly it turned to a deafening roar, thundering cracks ripping through the stone underfoot.  
“RUN!” she screamed, but it came too late. The ground gave way and they were falling through the rapidly expanding gaps.

All she could see was dust, so thick that the air had become opaque, blocking out everything else. She felt it though, coming down upon their heads and threatening to crush them where they lay in a scattered, broken heap. With arms outstretched she leapt into the air, eyes blind but relying on other senses; she carved one vicious swathe after another in an arc above her, searing flames burning away the masses of debris tumbling towards them.

Everyone was injured but alive, and despite being physically healed, they unilaterally agreed that a break was in order. She manifested pallets and tables of food so they could rest and eat, and found herself sitting alone after ensuring  the area was safe. The sudden collapse of the tunnel might’ve taken them further from Corypheus, but the path ahead was clear, and that was a small blessing to be thankful for.

The way ahead seemed to be taking them further beneath the earth, though it was nigh on impossible to navigate this far down. At the edges of her hearing there seemed to be a distant sort of singing, but of an extraordinary sort. There was the slightest hint of unease pulling at her stomach, but her heart felt full and light, urging her to believe that nothing was amiss.

“Anyone else hear that?” Anders asked as when they’d been traveling for a while.

“Yes,” Frenris’ voice clipped, he was clearly feeling uncomfortable.

“We should proceed cautiously.” _Could this have something to do with Corypheus?_ She thought, _growing weary._ Perhaps she should go ahead without them, not that they’d agree to it now.

“There is a strange magic here, and we should either avoid it or destroy.” She shook her head, Fenris’ hatred of magic was coloring his thought process and Abelas shot him a look that could be read as nothing less than murderous. Tension was rising swiftly, but they’d come too far and were too close now for this conflict.

“There is nothing inherently evil or good about magic, despite how some people might use it, Fenris.” She offered, gently.

He huffed. “You will never hear people without magic saying so.”

“That is because they are taught to fear, but it is not dangerous in and of itself. What would you do if you found yourself one day wielding magic?”

“I would rather die,” he spat, voice indignant. She barely saw Abelas roll his eyes from the corner of her vision.

“Can we not just proceed in silence?” Anders asked, anxious; he wasn’t the only one.

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” offered Cullen.

“So do I,” Evelyn agreed, unsurprisingly.

Further down the path, the song became erratic, pausing and resuming; changing pitch and rhythm, until it simply stopped. Those among them capable of hearing it halted abruptly, its cessation leaving an uneasy emptiness in the air. She lifted her head to look around, ears perked up to listen for it, but it was gone.

“Why are we stopping?” asked Cassandra, stance sharpening in uncertainty.

“The song has stopped,” explained Abelas.

“What does that mean?” Hawke asked, tension rising up all around them.

“Nothing good, we can be sure of that,” Anders offered.

What _was_ happening? Was there something she hadn’t accounted for? The song felt like an unfathomable thing, resonating through her soul with an ancient truth. _Nothing good indeed,_ she thought, beginning to move again but now at a quicker pace. _Nothing good at all._

The path gave way to an enormous cavern flooded with brilliant blue light. _Oh no!_ In the center, the heart of a titan was being engulfed by Corypheus as he attempted to take it into himself, to claim the power of the ancient godlike creature. Why had she delayed in this confrontation? If she had moved faster, none of this would be happening. _Damn it! Careless, stupid, thoughtless!_ She shook her head, the knowledge that this could’ve been avoided was a crushing blow to the chest. The heart was still alive, but barely, and she was unsure whether to let it die or to try and save it.

“Sethius Amladaris,” she screamed in desperate fury, “of unspeakable crimes against nature you are found guilty; the sentence is execution!”

“Who are you to judge me?!” he demanded, so sure of his superior position and making no move to halt his efforts. “I would be a _god_ , and you are what? A silly, human woman playing with powers she does not understand.”

“I am the guardian of this world, and you are nothing but an _aberration_!” She leveled him with her gaze; let him feel the power coursing through her.

He laughed. “Guardian of this world? You are nothing more than an insect! Killing you will not even require effort.”

She strode forward, the conversation pointless, and extended her arm, mighty sword appearing in her hand. Gripping the haft with both fists, she rushed towards him, an unstoppable blow cleaving him in two. His body fell dead, appearing defeated, his grip on the heart severed. The dimmed light of the heart brightened minutely, but it was still silent.

They looked around in wonder, the sight enough to rob anyone of words. Their eyes turned then to the dead magister at her feet, an easier thing for the mind to digest. The sentinels, she noticed, and Anders as well, kept their focus on the heart.

“Looks as dead as the last time,” offered Hawke, not their usual joking self.

“And he remains very much alive, if that’s the right word to use for such a creature,” she replied.

“Then let us kill it as many times as required,” Fenris suggested, flexing his lyrium-imbued fist.

“Corypheus!” she called, “Face me if you _dare!_ ”

Suddenly, the darkspawn were upon them, swarming in on all sides. It seemed she needed to reveal herself. She had wanted to wait, but perhaps it _was_ time; it might even be enough taunt him into the confrontation she wanted. Besides, the heart’s power needed to be protected at all costs.

“Everyone! I will imbue with strength for the fight, do not be alarmed when you feel it!” she yelled.

She stood then, back arched slightly and face turned up to the ceiling, as warmth flooded though her, spilling over and beyond the confines of her body. Massive, white, feathered wings, sprouted from her back as she leapt into the air and the warmth grew and spread, filling each of her allies. Perhaps not a plan they would all approve of, but she wasn’t going to take unnecessary chances.

Leaping into the air, she spun and dashed towards a group of darkspawn, shredding their grotesque forms with a few well-placed strikes. With her power no longer contained, the white fire erupted and exploded, engulfing the entire area.

That’s when they heard it, a high, screeching growl, and the slow flapping of mighty wings. She knew instantly the magister had called his dragon, and it took only a moment for the formidable beast to appear, striking terror into the hearts of all that beheld it, all except for her.

“Sweet Maker!” cried Cassandra, “It is an archdemon!”

“Nug shit!” Varric cursed, sheer indignation overwhelming his sense of fear.

“Does this mean another Blight is upon us?” asked Hawke, voice strong despite the trepidation showing in their eyes.

“It is merely a corrupted dragon,” she said, reaching out her arm to grab a second sword, “and killing it is the only way to end Corypheus.”

“Fantastic,” joked Anders mirthlessly, “and here I thought this fight would be easy.”

“I’ve got the dragon, the rest of you focus on the darkspawn!” It was a command.

“Listen Dove,” cautioned Varric, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Don’t worry about me Chest Hair,” she teased, “just don’t put this in one of your books!”

“No promises!” he called after her.

She darted at the dragon, a hulking monster of a thing, presently trying to snap her up in its jaws. She flitted to the side, dodging, and dragged her swords down its neck. It let out a terrible shriek, dropping tens of feet in the air, and then dove downwards, aiming for the fight below.

“You will not!” She warned, diving after it, blades carving into its belly.  
That got her its full attention, head whipping around towards her, but she moved instantly behind it, burying her weapons in its mighty throat, and then pushed off to give chase. The fight was nearly finished, but she didn’t want to risk anyone being hurt in the aftermath.

As the dragon lunged after her, the searing white flame from the swords snaked through its body, burning it from within. It unleashed a piercing scream, clawing at her as it rolled to its death, hitting the ground with a fearsome thud as the fire devoured it whole.

The darkspawn were beginning to scatter, and the fight seemed to be more or less won. There was just one problem, Corypheus had all but vanished without a trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may or may not be smut (that I've already written) in two or three chapters! First time for that, so hopefully it will not be terrible XD
> 
> I can be found on tumblr [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/).


	8. Don't Go Breakin' My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to end Corypheus, once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight scenes are hard. This took me way longer than it should've ha XD.

“Is it over?” Cassandra asked, a little unsteady.

“No,” replied Hawke curtly, “That accursed beast is still here somewhere.”

“But we saw her cleave it in two, the corpse shredded into nothing!” Evelyn insisted wearily.

Cullen tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, and her face immediately relaxed. They were all exhausted, more emotionally than physically, and not a little overwhelmed. Evelyn was new to this, and Ean’u wondered for a moment if dragging her in was not the wrong decision. In another life she became a great leader, but things had changed and the world was different now.

Was it an inherent part of Evelyn herself, or was it the anchor and the Breach, and being the one everyone looked to? Time would tell, Ean’u supposed, hoping it would turn out for the best.  Maybe not the savior she once was, but still a powerful ally in a fight where more would always be needed.

 

“So, uh, what’s with the wings?” Varric asked, face deceptively calm, “I just assumed _little bird_ was symbolic.”

“Mmmm,” she laughed, shaking her head, “a story for another day, my friend. Let it suffice to say that this is what I truly look like.”

“Well damn, I guess that removes any doubt about you being human,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Then what,” Cullen asked, clearing his throat, “ _are_ you exactly?”

“SHHHH!” Trevelyan warned, head darting around, “We’re not alone!”

In the distance there was a sound like skittering, growing louder as strange shadows danced quickly across the stalagmites.

“Peace!” Ean’u commanded, lifting her arms in the air. “We have no wish to fight you!”

From somewhere, an electrified bolt shot at her chest, but it disappeared into white flames just in front of her palm.

“Please,” she entreated, “We are here to defend the titan, not to harm it!”

She felt the tingle of magic on her skin as the mages cast barriers around the group. It was silent a moment, the sort of silence that feels deafeningly loud – everything on edge; hypersensitive, with adrenaline pumping through the veins of most of their party. The ancient elves were unerringly calm, like her, thousands of years of battle tempering their nerves. She hoped there would be no bloodshed, but feared it might not be helped.

Slowly she moved to the head of the group, head bowed and palms at face level. They were surrounded on all sides, but there seemed to be a leader of sorts in the direction she moved towards. When positioned just in front of the party, but not having gotten close enough to be threatening, she tilted her head back and spread her wings, the flexing muscles rippling through soft feathers.

“I implore you,” she pleaded, “make no move against my allies and we will make no move against you.”

There was silence for a few very pregnant moments, the tension in the air palpable, as the Sha-Brytol sized up the unusual creature standing before them; pleading for peace. She hoped that her strangeness would deter them from an outright attack, and that perhaps negotiation was possible.

“You defile this ground with your footsteps,” a deep, gravelly voice informed them, taking a hesitant step forward.

“You have my sincerest apologies, protector. We have come to destroy a blighted horror - an intelligent darkspawn who would murder your titan.”

“We have seen no such thing.”

“He has escaped.”

“That is convenient.” The hand gripping their weapon tightened and she bowed her head.

“No, it is truthful. If I wanted to lie, I could certainly come up with a better one.”

“Leave. If you speak the truth, we will kill the defiler.” It didn’t sound like a request; this was not good.

“He is extremely powerful, please, let us help you.”

“You do not belong here. You must leave.”

“He is too strong; you will not defeat him on your own!”

“You have been warned. Leave or die.”

The ancient dwarven guardians lifted their weapons then and adopted a fighting stance, lyrium imbued armor glowing faintly. _Dammit!_ she thought, cursing to herself. Things had gone from bad to worse. Corypheus’ dragon had been slain, so he was now capable of being killed, but could the Sha-Brytol manage it on their own? She had to hope it would be alright for the time being, because having to killing them was not something she wanted to do.

“As you wish,” she promised, bowing low. She spread her arms wide and the party was instantly brought back to the Deep Roads entrance.

“Andraste’s tits!” exclaimed Varric, “is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

“Mmmmm,” she replied thoughtfully, “I’m a terrible writer.” Her wink was rewarded with a shake of the head and a chuckle.

“I don’t think I want to do that again,” offered Cullen weakly. “Next time I’d prefer to walk.”

Evelyn offered him a small smile and casually put a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

“That was _incredible!”_ Anders practically yelled. “Can we do that again?”

“No!” Cassandra shouted, before subtly shuddering and lowering her voice, “I do not wish to repeat that experience, _ever_.”

“I don’t know,” offered Hawke, smirking, “that’s a pretty convenient way to travel if you ask me.”

“Good thing no one asked you,” Evelyn jibed.

“You alright Fenris?” Hawke asked, concerned.

“I am ready to leave,” he stated a little too calmly, and then he had turned to walk away.

“Wait, where you are you going?” When he didn’t reply, Hawke moved to follow him, tailed by Anders and Varric.

“This conversation isn’t over!” Anders called, trailing behind his friends. She shook her head, smiling.

“What will you do now?” It was the first time she’d heard Abelas speak during the entire expedition, and she had nearly forgotten that he could.

“I will go back on my own and handle this. It’s not worth the risk to anyone else, and if something happens with the titan or the guardians, then only I will be their enemy.”

“Is that not a risk to you?”

“No,” she assured him, setting a hand on his shoulder for a moment, “I have survived worse.”

“I would still prefer that you not go alone.”

“So would I,” interrupted Cullen, “you’re… amazing, and rather terrifying, but if this Corypheus is as bad as you say…” She noticed that Evelyn was looking pointedly in another direction.

“Cullen is right, Ean’u, the risk is too great.” Cassandra was facing her now; standing companionably close, it was progress. “We are expendable, but you are not.”

“No,” she argued, “you are _not_ expendable Cass. I can take care of myself, do not concern yourselves. I wasn’t asking permission and it is not open for discussion.”

“Please be careful, we need you to see us through this.” Evelyn’s hands were holding one of hers now, a touching and genuine show of affection.

“I promise, Evelyn.” She smiled at her warmly, pulling her into a friendly embrace.  “Now, shall we return?”

 

\-----

 

“Are you certain this is wise?” The Divine asked, concern furrowing her brow.

“If our Little Bird says she can, then we should take her at her word.”

“You were not there, Leliana,” Cassandra cautioned, “You did not see what we were up against.”

“I must admit, I’m quite interested in seeing those wings of yours,” she winked.

“If I may,” Cullen politely interjected, “Ean’u singlehandedly took down a blighted dragon; without even getting _winded_.”

“Hmmmm,” mused Divine Justinia, “and what do you have to say, my child?” They all looked at her expectantly.

“It is my intention to return to the Deep Roads and put Corypheus down once and for all. I am unconcerned about the danger to myself, and more worried about the danger to Thedas. What stopped him from being killed was the dragon, but now the dragon is dead, and there is no barrier to my success.”

“If it is your wish to go alone, then we shall respect your decision and pray for the Maker to guide you.”

“This is not right,” Cassandra insisted respectfully.

Ean’u put a reassuring hand on the Seeker’s shoulder, bowed politely, and took her leave.

 

\-----

 

 _Oh no!_ The chamber was overrun with darkspawn and Sha-Brytol corpses littered the floor. Blue light bathed the room in fits and starts as Corypheus worked on draining the heart.

“I warned you once!” She boomed, righteous fury pouring out of her as she leapt into the air and bolted towards him.

Ducking to the side to dodge a thrown boulder, she threw out her arm, sword manifesting in time to be hurled into the chest of the offending ogre, screaming as it was devoured by flames. A hail of magic and arrows bombarded on all sides; flames rent them into nothing with a violent wave of her arms. In her haste, she was sloppy and a lone bolt had struck the back of her shoulder. She yanked it out with a small twist, the wound closing itself almost instantly.

The blighted creatures gave chase but she ignored them in favor of larger prey. She felt Corypheus put up a barrier just before she drove her palms into his chest, sending him flying away from the heart. She reached an arm up to grab a sword, spinning and dragging the blade to her side, a mighty arc of flames immolating the fast approaching darkspawn horde. She turned around fast enough to just barely slash away the shards of lyrium the magister had flung at her as he got up from the ground.

“You have interrupted my ritual for the second time. For that you will pay.”

She reached out for a second sword, spinning in a circle, blades whirring through the air and creating a furious curtain of flames that she cast outward, turning the darkspawn surrounding her into ash.

“Sethius Amladaris,” she responded, righteous anger hardening her face, “I failed to deliver the sentence of your death, but I am here to rectify that mistake.”

She moved towards him, swords drawn.

“Learn your place, interloper, dead names will not save you. Now you will bow to the Elder One!”

A beam of concentrated magic shot towards her, but she blocked quickly with a sharp strike of her sword, cutting through it and sending flames hurtling towards her attacker. He teleported behind her, throwing jagged lyrium shards at her back, a spinning slash shattering them into dust.

“Parlor tricks,” she jibed, arms moving to launch streams of fire as her blades worked a dizzying pattern through the air.

It went that way for a short while, with him expending excess magical energy that she artfully dodged or destroyed, but now his barrier was getting overwhelmed.  Clearly, he knew it too, getting desperate; he sent more shards flying towards her, transporting immediately away and attempted to blast her with a lyrium beam. A startled sound fell from his lips when a sword was suddenly plunged into his chest.

“This cannot be! How have you done this?” he stammered, tainted blood pooling from the wound.

“Parlor tricks,” she repeated, yanking out the blade.

Corypheus fell to his knees then, with a mighty thud; hands dropping to the ground. He collapsed after a moment, lying on his back as she stood over him, weapon at the ready.

“May whatever god you believe in have mercy on your soul.”

She lifted her arm and swung, intending to cleave his head from his body, and while she was distracted, a shower of red lyrium crystals bombarded her from behind. He laughed until the blow was dealt, and she shook her head at the carelessness. One of the shards had sliced her back open and another was stuck in her wing. With a hand engulfed in white flame, she reached for the splinter and pulled hard, ripping it out of her flesh. A choked scream broke over her, searing pain the punishment for her lack of caution.

The darkspawn were starting to gather again, but they were no threat to the heart, and with the red lyrium in her veins, she needed to go somewhere safe to heal. In the state she was in, there was only one place she could think of.

 

\-----

 

He sat at his desk reading and re-reading the missive, dragging his fingers along the edge; unsure what to make of it.

 

_The little bird has wings._

 

Well that was unnecessarily cryptic and of course piqued his curiosity. He would absolutely be speaking to Felassan about the nature of this letter, and politely request more direct communications in the future.

She has _wings_? He tossed the sentence around his head, intending to untangle the meaning, but having no success. Literal wings seemed too obvious, but if there was a metaphor, he found himself unable to intuit its meaning.

It was rather thoroughly vexing. At every turn she proved to be a puzzle; one that he was especially eager to solve. Not only did the fate of the world rest it, but his own personal intrigue demanded he do so. Waking up had been so different from what he had thought it would be.

The gears in his mind were spinning wildly, running through various scenarios and trying to piece things together when he realized he was not alone. Perhaps he should bypass the middleman and go straight to the source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is SMUT. Lots and lots of SMUT.


	9. Dread Wolf Take Me (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT. This chapter is Smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time I've ever written smut, so I'm pretty nervous about posting XD

“Hello,” she greeted him, voice sounding unusual – slower and deeper than it normally was.

“You have returned. Shall I take this to mean the threat is no more?”

“Mmhmmm,” she _purred_ at him? That was… odd.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, getting up from his chair and moving towards her.

“No, I don’t think I am.” she admitted, voice drawling through the words.

He was now only a few steps away and noticed her eyes were heavily lidded and her face flushed. Could she be tired, perhaps? Little he might know of her powers, but he knew firsthand that she slept at least sometimes.

“You are welcome to lie down if you need rest,” he offered. There was no reason to be inhospitable, after all.

“Thank you,” she nodded, grabbing him by the shoulders when her body swayed suddenly.

Reflexively, he reached his arms around her waist, pulling her up. The action left them closer than was polite. It took a moment before she was steady, his arms tight around her for balance. She looked up into his eyes with something dark and unfamiliar in her gaze.

He had seen people look at him like that before, though it had been a long time. Because it was her, he assumed he was mistaken or perhaps confused – nothing else made sense, surely.

“Solas,” she breathed, close enough for him to feel it, and he stiffened. It was the first time she’d called him that when they were alone.  _That was… incredibly alluring_ , his traitorous mind dared to observe.

She just looked at him a moment; dragging her teeth across her bottom lip, and he stood watching her, unsure of what he should do or of what she planned to do. Then her eyes were closing and her mouth was pressing against his. A surprise at first and he tensed, but before she could pull away he’d already dragged her back in.

When he felt her tongue against his lips he parted them readily, eager to consume. Soft beneath his touch, his hands greedily seeking the skin beneath her robes. With her wrists behind his neck, he dragged down her sleeves, a tentative exploration to gauge her reaction.

She pulled him in tighter until their hips touched, gasping into his mouth at the contact. It was all the encouragement he needed, moving forward until she was forced to step back. When the bed hit her legs, the hands around his neck pulled to keep her from falling. He took the opportunity to nudge her legs apart with his knee, restraint overwhelmed when she responded with an instinctive grind against his thigh. A jolt of arousal surged through him at the sound escaping her mouth.

He let out a low growl, removing her arms from his neck and pushing her onto the bed, legs splayed before him. She leveled that too intense gaze at him, demanding and hungry; ready to devour. Using her forearms, she moved to slide further up the bed, but he grabbed her hips and roughly pulled her forward. No, if anyone was getting devoured it would be her. He licked his lips in anticipation and bade her remove her clothes.

She hesitated a moment, deciding whether or not to submit, and then the robes were gone. His eyes feasted on pale, unmarked flesh, back arching to give him a better view. The sight of her nipples, pert and pink, sent a throbbing pulse into his core. He was aching now to sheathe himself in her, but the Wolf was hungry and demanded to be fed.

He knelt before her, lifting her ankle to his shoulder and giving it a soft lick. He moved higher and higher, licking, kissing, and biting supple flesh until her leg pushed into his back in an attempt to drag him closer. He placed his forearm across her hips, pinning her in place as he proceeded with the torture. She let out a desperate sound, the breathy moan a signal of her blossoming desire, and he bit her thigh harder. “Ahhh,” she gasped, bucking under the weight of his arm; necessitating a greater application of force.

When he trailed his tongue across her inner thigh, she reached out, a hand on the back of his head desperately trying to pull him down. She was urging when she was capable of forcing; so he decided to mercifully obey. His tongue gently traced the center of her sex, already slick with arousal, and his hips jerked minutely. Her body tensed at the contact, the sweet relief of his submission making her back arch as he pushed his tongue inside her.

Her body opened itself to him, eager when he replaced his tongue with two hooked fingers. His mouth licked and sucked; teasing with his teeth as they moved within her. She shuddered as he increased his speed, a primal groan leaving her throat and shooting straight down his hardening length. Her hands busied themselves, dragging nails down the sides of her ribcage and palming her breasts as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

He tugged at the fade, calling for his magic, merely a whisper now but enough for what he intended. She yelled out when the first arcs of lightning danced across her flesh, attempting to grind against his fingers and tongue with an effort almost too strong for him to contain. He went faster now, long, hard thrusts of his fingers combined with the ministrations of his tongue and the little shocks of his magic, leaving her panting beneath him. She writhed as she came undone, a desperate cry ripped from her throat as the waves of pleasure crested higher and higher until she crested, slowly coming back down.

“Mmmmm,” she drawled, “that was… incredible.” He licked his lips and climbed onto the bed beside her, his erection almost painful now.

Her hair was disheveled; worse than when she’d fallen asleep against him. He preferred her this way, her usually flawless appearance a constant reminder that that she; that they, were both more and less than ordinary people. He slated his mouth over hers, letting their tongues lazily twine together as his restraint fractured at the edges, kiss breaking when he felt her hands tugging at his laces.

“Nu’da’din’sal’mah,” she promised, arresting him with the eager look in her eyes.  He was more than ready. This time, he thought it was not so terrible to hear her speak his language.

“Ma haurasha,” he offered in lurid praise.

That was all it took for his clothes to disappear, her body on him before he knew what was happening, shoving him onto his back. One minute they were too far down on the bed, her legs still hanging off the edge, and then they were perfectly situated in its center. She bent over him, hand gently stroking him much too slowly, and she bit his lip. He thrust upwards into her hand but she pinned him beneath her thighs. It would seem she was getting her revenge.

Lifting herself up, she guided him to her entrance and then slowly lowered around him. She smiled in self-satisfaction when he moaned, languidly dragging her body up and then thrusting downwards until he was fully seated inside her. The pace was slow at first, and it was almost too much wound up as he was. He brought his hands to her hips in an attempt to force a quicker rhythm, but she stilled altogether, pinning his hands over his head. Revenge was sweet but painful.

She tied him then, with her magic, leaving him no choice but to acquiesce to her demands. He let out a fierce growl and she dragged her nails down his arms nearly hard enough to draw blood. She rocked harder against him then, clearly enjoying the feral moan that she elicited. He continued to fight against the restraints, forcing her to punish him with her nails and teeth. He nipped at her neck when she moved close enough to his mouth, a pleasured moan sounding in his ear.

She wantonly ground herself against him with each eager thrust, their breaths now ragged and skin glistening with sweat. Demanding and greedy, her speed becoming frantic, it was almost too much. He felt the warm, tingling glow of her strange magic race along his skin, beginning to envelop him. She sat taller then, head turned up towards the ceiling as great, white wings sprouted from her arching back; a cry spilling from her lips.

Immediately he silenced the hazy thoughts whispering in some part of his mind not yet lost to the overwhelming waves of pleasure. She was magnificent, damn her, and he was undone. It was a crushing ecstasy, of an almost painful magnitude, his eyes closed, mouth open, wrists straining against his bonds. Agonizing bliss shot through his shuddering form, so strong he wasn’t sure his body could withstand it, his voice drowned in the waves of nirvana. Then, all at once it had broken over and the feeling bled away, taking a piece of him with it and leaving his body limp and twitching from the aftershocks as her body slowed above him.

With wings still outstretched, her head dropped to his chest; both of them too spent to disentangle. He felt fulfilled in that moment, with her body surrounding him; the rest of the world too far away now to be concerned with. It was reflex to punish himself at the mere idea of forgetting his duty, but he was too overcome now to worry about anything. He needed this, the sweet relief of letting go, and the comfort of physical closeness.

There was a muffled sound in the distance, like his name being called from underwater. It started off just barely at the edge of his hearing but then became louder; sharper. His eyes snapped open suddenly, Felassan standing over him, his bed empty and his body fully clothed.

“Solas, there’s something you nee-“

“Get out.” He demanded, fury sweeping away the bliss he was consumed by mere moments ago. The young elf nodded reproachfully, taking his leave.

He sat up in the bed, realization dawning despite the confusion reigning in his mind. Whatever had happened, whatever _that_ was, he had somehow regained the power of the wolf. It was a fortuitous and convenient turn of events that he fully intended to take advantage of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there we go, SMUT XD. I am a little worried about it haha.
> 
> Elvish courtesy of FenxShiral  
> nu'da'din'sal'mah - when you have orgasmed after sex or masturbating, but want to immediately go again.  
> ma haurasha - my honey, a sexual endearment.
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/).


	10. Morning After Pill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex complicates things, but you can't just pretend it didn't happen, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavy on the angst. It was actually painful for me to write. Fair warning.

He wrestled with himself for a time on the course of action he should take. At once he wanted to immediately seek her out, but what had happened… what _had_ happened? It did not feel like the Fade, and yet he had apparently been sleeping. Her scent yet clung to his memory, though there was no trace of it now, and it had not merely been remembered from previous meetings. She was not, and never had been _here_ , and yet knew resolutely that he had not imagined it in some fevered dream.

Wings, she had literal wings. They were _beautiful_ – she was beautiful. It was all madness. Avoiding her was the prudent course of action; to harden himself against feelings that threatened, more with each passing moment, to develop into something deeper. Despite everything, and whatever had passed between them, the weight upon his shoulders was too great to risk such a dalliance. Even if she did offer a real chance for a better path, it was still hopelessly misguided.

What had he been thinking? He had not, and that was precisely the problem. He actively disliked her, did he not? And yet, there before him with plush lips and soft skin and making sounds that… **_No. Absolutely not._ ** These were not the sort of thoughts a man of his age and position ought be having at all, let alone indulging. It was superlatively foolish and selfish, and he knew better than this.

He paced back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, and occasionally shook his head. No, he should process this new information and consider how it might best be used to further his purposes, and he should avoid seeing her. They would need to discuss this, surely; especially if they were to be allies for the time being. It was much better to confront these sorts of situations than to let them fester and build awkward tension, although she had proven herself to be highly skilled at relieving... No. He needed to stop this at once.

The problem was that he could still feel her body against his, and he wanted fervently to be near her, if only to have her skin pressed against him. As thoroughly as he had enjoyed the sexual component, it was not what he was most interested in, and that was a startling and uncomfortable realization. She was real and bright and beautiful, and she had given him something he did not think himself capable of even wanting.

It was with resignation and full awareness of his irresponsibility that he transformed into a wolf and walked through the veil. How utterly foolish it was that his first act upon regaining this ability was to chase after a woman whose mere presence disrupted not only his plans, but his focus.

Despite the best efforts of his spies, knowledge of her and the places she frequented was exceedingly limited. Truly, he was not certain that he should be able to even scent her, but regardless of sensibility, he was determined.

 

\----

 

After a time, he returned to the form of an elf, seeking to experience oft missed sensations. So long it had been since he could walk the Fade in waking, and the tingling of magic on his skin was not a little exhilarating. Did she possess such a power? Would the sensations feel the same to her? He wondered what she thought of spirits; if she had ever walked amongst them, and if it was not an experience they might at some point share.

Other things surely mattered to her besides duty, since he was in this situation, and he found himself wishing to know what they were. In her leisurely hours, when no one looked upon her with the heavy weight of expectation, what were the things she allowed herself to freely enjoy? These thoughts were all wanton foolishness, but the relief he felt in the indulgence left his footsteps feeling the smallest bit lighter.

“You should see her now!” a small, high voice exclaimed.

Turning, he saw a bright, blue spirit, childlike in form, smiling at him.

“I believe you are a biased source, Happiness,”

“She makes you feel good! You deserve to feel good!”

The spirit reached out to grab his hand, and he shook his head.

“Life is more complex than that.”

“No, it isn’t! You just make it that way!”

“You are right, but that does not change things.”

“It should! Then you could be happy.”

He sighed, knowing the spirit could not truly understand the situation.

“Do you know where I can find her?”

The spirit brightened, chirping its response, “she is not in the Fade.”

“That is fine, I expected her to be awake.”

“But she is not awake.”

 _Not in the Fade, but not awake?_ What did that mean?

“Do you know where I may find her body?”

“Yes!” Happiness brightened excitedly, “she is home. You should join her there!”

His brows scrunched in puzzlement, “Where is her home?”

“At your home.”

 _His home, but where…?_ He could think of only one place, but why would she be at Tarasyl'an Te'las?

“She is there often. Maybe she is waiting for you!”

 _How odd_ , he thought, bowing his head. “Thank you, Happiness.”

“I am happy to help!” the spirit exclaimed, brightening.

Again he became the Wolf, hesitating only briefly before setting out for his destination.

 

\----

 

Skyhold was in quite a state from the last time he had seen it, but he supposed that was to be expected. The whole of it had remained impressively intact, all things considered, and when he entered the great hall it appeared to recently have been repaired and cleaned. In the rotunda he found her, how odd she should be in the place he most favored, lying prostrate on the floor. The room was furnished by a simple bed, where she normally slept? His heart clenched to think she had been unwell enough to not reach it.

Immediately he went to her, dropping to his knees, and all previous reluctance bled away as he lifted her into his arms. She was, most assuredly alive, the gentle rise and fall of her chest a mighty relief, and he gently stroked his hand across her forehead. The skin of her face was cool and damp; clearly something was wrong, but nothing was amiss in her appearance.

Reaching out with magical senses, he examined her for abnormalities, and determined that a foreign body was embedded in one of her wings. He picked her up at once and set her gently on the bed, rolling her carefully over to access the affected area. From the outside there was no visible indication, and it appeared as though her flesh had healed around the object; he would need to cut it out.

The bed sunk down when he moved to rise, and he felt her stir.

“Mmmm,” she grumbled, voice rough; her eyes slitting through heavy lids. “Sssso-las?”

“I am here, but you are unwell. There is something stuck in your wing, and I need to cut it out.”

“Alright,” she murmured, eyes fluttering shut.

He smoothed a hand over her forehead, rubbing his thumb in soft circles against her temple, and felt her arch into his touch. Into his free hand, she pressed a small knife, humming with strange magic. Carefully he set to work using it, casting spells intended to numb the flesh as much as possible to minimize the discomfort.

“Doo nnot touch itt,” she drawled groggily, “s’poisonn.”

“I will observe caution,” he promised, wondering what substance could be so dangerous.

“Here,” she said, lifting her hand slightly so he could accept the surgical tongs.

Meticulously he removed the glowing, red fragment and eyed it suspiciously before it was engulfed in pure white fire and disappeared, along with the tongs and the knife. The incision had already healed, with not a drop of blood left anywhere.

She began to lift herself slowly, and embraced her instinctively. At first she leaned leant into him, lips parting minutely when he dragged his thumb across them, but then her eyes shot open wide and she moved away.

“Apologies, I had…” he trailed off, clearing his throat.

“It is fine. Thank you for your assistance.”

He had to train his body to calm, to avoid flinching at the sudden change in her demeanor.

“Ah, yes… The object, what was it?” he asked, changing the subject; his jaw tense and face an emotionless mask.

“Red lyrium, extremely dangerous; a scourge to even beings such as us.”

“I see. If I should encounter it in the future, I will take necessary precautions.”

“Good,” she acknowledged curtly, standing from the bed.

The impersonal treatment was like a stab in his chest. What had he expected, warmth and affection? They had shared something, he _knew_ it to be true, and yet she treated him with disaffected sterility. Did she intend to simply act as though nothing at all occurred between them, with not even the minutest of explanations?

“You need not leave,” he assured her, rising, “I will see myself out.”

“No, Skyhold is yours. If anyone should leave it is me.”

He couldn’t help himself now; he walked to her, placing one hand on her shoulder and another on her chin, lifting her eyes up to meet his. They shined minutely, but hardened quickly, to the point where he needed to force himself to not look away.

“What happened between us, I expect nothing from you.”

“There is nothing between us.”

His felt his face twitch, for just a moment, and instantly covered the crack in his mask, pulling away to a _polite_ distance.

“Do I not deserve even a measure of civility?”

“I thanked you for your assistance.”

“What have I done that causes you to shrink from my presence so?” the mixture of hurt and anger had now swallowed every other feeling inside him.

“I don’t trust you,” she declared flatly, looking away.

“You have more reason to trust me than I have _you_.” It was hard to keep his voice from a snarl now.

“I am not the one who wishes to _end the world_ ,” she accused.

“No, you merely have hidden motivations and offer only vague goals.”

“My motivation is to help, where yours is to destroy!”

“I would save my people!”

“A people whose ending was brought on by themselves!”

He was furious now, the anger wholly overcoming any sorrow he had previously been feeling.

“And what of _your_ people,” he scoffed, “they are without fault, I presume?”

She sighed. “My people are not like yours, or like any people from this world. We live in harmony with each other, and protect and guide mortals.”

“It would seem you have not done a very good job.” He took no action to hide the fury that had filled him.

“My people have not grown depraved in their boredom. My people do not keep slaves and desire to be gods. My people have respect for lives other than their own!”

“But not the lives of _my_ people.”

“I would protect all the elvhen that remain, but I would not destroy this world and the people in it to bring them back. They are still people, even if they are not _your_ people!”

“Fumbling about; believing in myths and legends, based on lies? Oh yes, they are _truly_ something to behold.”

“I am sorry for you, Dread Wolf, that your pride so overwhelms your better qualities that you cannot see the beauty of _this_ world, which not only rivals but _surpasses_ that of the one you lost.”

“Riva-… Surpasses!?” He was outright glowering now, but not looking directly into her eyes. She looked angry but there was sadness there too, a piercing sorrow that scorched his insides as she leveled him with an increasingly intense stare.

“What are floating palaces and crystal spires when compared to the depth of love felt by creatures who know their lives are fleeting and fragile? What is the preciousness of effortless magic when it renders people powerless? These mortals have a strength that you may never understand, and an ability to survive and adapt where your people had _complacency_.”

“That is _enough_.”

She let out a loud, exasperated breath. “How can you know that action is not inherently better than inaction, and still be so eager to recklessly act? How can you believe so strongly in freedom and not forcing your will on others, and yet be so eager to massacre countless living, feeling; thinking beings?”

“By _your_ leave,” he breathed through a clenched jaw, and then turned to walk away.

He became the Wolf, and damned if she saw him, because he did not care, and he leapt into the Fade. An unfeeling monster was he, and one that she did not care about. _Foolish, incomprehensibly stupid_ , he had for a moment thought… but **_NO._ ** He had a duty to The People, and that was _all_ he had. With a resolute stride and surety on his side, his objective was suddenly clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but it had to be done. Once the band-aid is ripped off, you can start to recover. That begins in the next chapter! There will eventually be smut and fluff with Solas and Ean'u, I promise! We just have a lot of stuff to do in the interim.
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/) if you want it. I welcome questions and prompts.


	11. The Heart of the Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit rushed; so I'm not certain if it falls a little flat or not.

“I fear I’ve made a horrible mistake, Dorian.”

She went from pacing to flopping down on the bed.

“Well, it can’t be that bad. It’s not like the fate of the world rests on your shoulders.”

She threw a pillow at him, and he caught it.

“I had sex with him.”

“With whom?” he asked, eyebrow quirked up in interest.

“The Dread Wolf.”

He choked, talking through the coughs, “Oh, I get it, very funny.”

“If only I were joking.”

His thumb and forefinger traced his moustache, brow slightly furrowed.

“I suppose that does make things rather messy, but ignoring that, was it good?”

She grabbed a pillow and clutched it to her chest as Dorian waved his hand in insistence.

“Yes,” she groaned, turning to face the wall.

“Yes? You can do better than that!”

She heaved out a heavy sigh, rolling to face him.

“It surpassed all expectations of what sex with a godlike being should be.”

“Then you know what you have to do.”

Not a single part of her trusted his grin.

“I don’t know what you’re about to say,” she sat up, extending her pointer finger at him accusingly, “but the answer is no.”

“Pfft! Some people are so hard to please.”

She rolled her eyes at his waggling eyebrows.

“Heaven’s sake, Dorian, it’s not as though I don’t want him, but I absolutely cannot afford the complication.”

“I find it’s the complicated bits that are usually the most fun,” he offered, lifting a glass of wine and swirling it before taking a sip.

She breathed out deeply, “Eventually, if ever, but now is not the right time.”

“But you are expecting there to be a right time?”

“No? Maybe. I don’t know. He is deeply important to me, but I could never take him as he is.”

“You can’t force someone to change.”

“No, but he wants to, and I know he’s capable of it.”

“Are you certain of that, or are you projecting your hopes onto him?” he offered, sitting next to her and giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Both? Perhaps I no longer know. How can his brilliance be equaled only by his blindness?”

“Letting go can be a difficult thing when what we’ve lost is all that matters to us.”

“I am sorry, Dorian,” she gentled, forcing him into an embrace. He resisted for a moment and then let his head fall against her shoulder.

“There’s no need to worry about me, don’t be silly,” he assured placidly, and she felt a tear trickle down her back. “And none of your special magic either, if you please. I prefer to deal with my feelings the old fashioned way, by drowning them with wine.”

She wondered then if there was not a way to introduce Dorian to Bull, but she could not risk involving the qunari with any part of what they currently had planned. No doubt there had been murmurs among the ben-hassrath, but it was another matter entirely to bring them into the fold. Eventually she would need to face that particular problem, but it was hardly at the top of the list.

In theory, she respected their way of life, but the problem was that they wanted to make converts of the rest of Thedas, and they would do so by violence, without hesitation. In the end, she felt the same as Solas about robbing people of their selves, and needed to at least offer them an alternative path. One more thing to do, but it would have to wait.

“I love you Dorian, even though I know it’s not enough.” She could feel the pain in his heart, and it stabbed into her, making her eyes sting sharply.

“Yes dear, I know.”

“You ass.” She smiled, nudging him in the shoulder.

“What’s the you say? I have a nice ass?”

“Yes, but mine is definitely better,” she teased, smacking him in the rear.

“Why you little!” he scolded, fingers already coming up to tickle her.

“Ah!” she squeaked between bouts of laughter, “I yield, I yield!”

“I have to say, I’m rather disappointed. You’re supposed to be so tough.”

She averted her eyes and adopted an exaggerated pout. “It hurts me deeply to hear you say that.”

“Chin up,” he mockingly reassured; patting her arm, “it is important to remain dignified.”

“Yes, you are right, of course.” She nodded, smiling suddenly.

“Wait, why d-“

He was cut off by the sudden raining down of cookies on his head and grimaced, lifting his hands in the air and giving them a disgusted shake.

“Again, really?”

“What can I say?” She smiled, laughing, “The look on your face makes it impossible for me to stop.”

“Some people are starving, you know, and here you are wasting food.” He looked at her reproachfully and tsked.

“Spoilsport,” she chided, sticking out her tongue and blowing a raspberry.

“And this is the behavior one should expect from the savior of Thedas? I am brimming with hope for the future.”

His face and tone was all seriousness, but he still picked up a cookie and threw it at her head. She tilted her neck just right so she could catch it in her mouth.

“Thank you,” she managed between bites, “I was getting hungry.”

“I do what I can,” he offered, bowing genteelly.

 

\----

 

He had caught her scent now and was able to track it through the Fade, his senses sharpened in anger. Lyrium meant dwarves, and his suspicions led him to exactly where he needed to go.

It was a desperate move, and not one he made lightly, but this amount of power was necessary. Astounding arrogance to take such a liberty, but it was not for himself that he would. What would he not do or give in order that he might help The People? Standing before the beating heart of a creature more ancient than he was, and much closer to actual godhood, he steeled himself.

The cavernous chamber was littered with the corpses of blighted creatures and strangely armored dwarves, evidence of the battle that had taken place. It was oddly fitting for the death of the unfathomable being, if there could be such a thing, and was it truly a death when the soul would live on inside him?

In the process of kneeling, he was halted by what sounded like wind. He need not turn around to know that Mythal had joined him.

“This is not the path, old friend.”

He could tell by her footsteps that she was walking towards him, and when he said nothing, she continued.

“There will be a way for The People yet, but this way leads only to ruination.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he bowed his head, shutting his eyes to fight the worrisome burning that he would not let become tears.

“The failure is mine,” he explained. “I should be the one to pay the price.”

“This will not rid you of your guilt, Dread Wolf.”

“No, and I would not wish it to.”

“Then there is no reason, when a better way has already presented itself.”

He turned to face her then, having some trouble meeting her eyes.

“I owe it to The People; how can I leave things in the hands of a stranger?”

“You are not so strange to her, and perhaps, in time, she will not be so strange to you.”

She was always so cryptic, the evanuris, and he did not appreciate the implications of her words. When he looked at her, face puzzled, she simply smiled.

“Let us go,” she said, as smoke swirled around them and she left him in his chambers at the temple where he’d slept through uthenera.

He was not alone, however, and found the room occupied by one of Mythal's sentinels, who bowed at his approach.

“My Lord,” he offered, obsequiously.

“Do not bow to me,” he told him a bit severely, taking a seat in a chair. “Why are you here?”

“I have been ordered to accompany you.”

“Your mistress knows better than that.”

“No, Lord, it was the Little Bird,” the sentinel informed him.

“I see,” he could feel his jaw tightening, “for what purpose?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I mean no disrespect, sir, but by Mythal’s wish we serve her.”

So he was to be kept in the dark? How deep and far did this alliance go, and why did no one see fit to share any information with him? Had he proved himself untrustworthy, in some way? For all his faults, he was not a liar, not truly.

“I see,” he repeated, his body tense.

He knew he could overcome the sentinel with little effort, or possibly use his powers to render him unconscious, but this new development could pose a problem. Was this his only jailer, and how closely did she intend to monitor him?

It was his damned, foolish pride that let her see the wolf, and now she knew he’d reclaimed at least some of his power. Did she see him as an enemy now? How could he have acted so stupidly? It seemed that with his every action, he only worsened matters, and he hardly needed more ammunition for self-recrimination.

“I believe she cares about you, if you do not mind me saying.”

“Of whom do you refer?” he asked, finally.

“The Little Bird, sir.”

“And what interest does a servant of Mythal take in such matters?” He was irritated, but the question was in earnest.

“She is a hope for The People.” That was not an answer he was expecting, and it carried various puzzling implications.

“Our People?” he asked, curious.

“It is not my place to speak on the matter,” he responded, inclining his head in deference.

“But you would broach the subject regardless, why?”

“It is a consideration she deserves, and one that is not difficult for me to extend.”

“I see,” he offered curtly, nodding his head in polite dismissal.

“I believe you do not, and that perhaps she does not either.”

“And what is it that neither of us see?”

“Each other,” he admitted plainly, bowing his head, and then he turned to leave.

So, she is a hope for The People and I do not see her. Certainly, that was an unexpected revelation from the mouth of anyone, but bizarre from such a source. What had she done or promised to do that had inspired such behavior in the sentinel? His eyes were unassuming; honest, and it disarmed Solas. What was he meant to do with this information?

What exactly was there that should compel him to believe she cared for him? The ill-advised tryst was an unforgivable mistake and had caused only problems. Some part of her was interested in some part of him, and what did that matter? For the briefest of moments, he’d almost let himself believe and be caught up, but no, there was nothing for it. They were not even truly allies anymore.

The only thing he could think to do was to visit Wisdom, but would he be permitted such an action as to walk the Fade, unaccompanied? He would certainly not travel with a chaperone, and if she knew as much of him as everyone claimed, then she ought know that already. Of course, she would expect him to test the walls of his prison, and what would be the effect of such an action sooner rather than later? To wait would be to show his patience, but to act immediately would be to show his unwillingness to bow to her whims. What he most wanted was the upper hand, but such a thing seemed nigh on impossible in the situation.

Consequences be damned, he needed to speak to Wisdom. They were likely the only one who would be honest and offer him guidance he might use. He decided it wisest to meet them as he slept, pretending to let himself be collared, and waiting for a more opportune moment to bare his teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long!!! I was dragged out of town for supposedly one night and it ended up being almost a week. I didn't have anything but my phone, and had no opportunity to write.
> 
> My plan is to knock out Mermaid between today and tomorrow if I can't get it done today. Sorry!!!!
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/) if you want it. I welcome questions and prompts.


	12. Talk is Cheap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit different - it's a series of conversations that are important to the story but not exactly central to the plot.

“I have been unable to track him through the Fade, my Lady.”

As he bent to kneel before her chair, she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, purple eyes hesitating to meet hers.

“The fault is mine Shivas, not yours, and Ean’u is fine.”

“It is I who was tasked with watching him.”

“And the order was mine,” she assured him, hands smoothing over her lap as she stood to walk about the room.

Uneasiness settled in her stomach as she wondered about the consequences of her ill-considered actions and if, perhaps, the situation was now beyond repair.

“Then you knew this would happen?” he asked, voice heightened with curiosity.

“I could not be certain, but I did suspect.”

“It was his reaction she was interested in,” Abelas explained, speaking for the first time since the younger sentinel had arrived.

“Yes,” she agreed, “but he must still be watched. Without Mythal’s interference, he may well have stolen the power from the titan heart, and such a thing must be prevented at all costs if he moves to try again.”

“If he becomes a threat,” Abelas cautioned, before she silenced him with a raised hand.

“Then I will act as necessary. Do not worry, my friend, I know well what is at stake.”

 

\-----

  


“Cassandra, I know this is difficult for you to hear.”

“I _cannot_ believe the Lord Seeker would betray his oaths in such a manner.”

The warrior shook her head, rising from her chair in one swift movement and turned away from the hand Leliana tried to place on her shoulder.

“My spies have as yet found no evidence to corroborate your claims. How can you be certain?”

“She has more than proven herself, Leliana. It is difficult information to accept, but Ean’u has my trust.”

“That means a great deal to me, Cassandra, and I will do my best to honor it. The question remains however, what should be done about Lord Lucius?”

“Thank you, my friend. We will discuss this with the Divine and let her decide on the best course of action.”

“I look forward to hearing what she has to say.”

She bowed her head and made to leave, but was interrupted by the red-haired spymaster.

“Cassandra trusts you; it is impressive considering how little she truly knows of you.”

“Perhaps she knows all she needs to.”

“Perhaps.”

“You do not, however. What is it I can tell you to allay your concerns?”

“Why should I be concerned about a person of unknown origin, in possession of suspiciously convenient information?”

The rogue’s smile was all civility, but the narrowness of her eyes was pure venom. Of course Leliana would have more difficulty trusting her than Cassandra, and they had not spent as much time together. It was not surprising or offensive, but having the Divine’s ear meant that she could pose a problem.

“My dear Nightingale, there is much about me you may not know, that is true, and you are right in suspecting that my motives are not purely altruistic. As much as I desire peace and freedom for all peoples, there _are_ personal reasons why I have chosen to interfere with the politics of this world. However, I am here only to help, and have done so.”

“The most effective poison tastes the sweetest.”

“And is the truth I bring not bitter? Does the knowledge of Corypheus taste sweet, or the betrayal of Lord Lucius? Such things sit rather unpleasantly in my own mouth.”

“Leliana,” the Divine’s voice interrupted suddenly, “do not treat our honored guest ungraciously.”

“Excuse me, Your Holiness,” she offered, bowing, “you are right. I am sorry.”

“It is alright. No harm was done. I hope that in time, your opinion of me will change.”

 

\-----

 

The Templar blinked his eyes open and shot up in his bed, jolted awake by the sinking of his mattress when she sat down beside him.

“Ser Barris, it is imperative I speak with you.”

Surprise, fear, and anger mingled together across his features when she’d moved them to a quiet meadow where they could enjoy privacy from prying ears.

“What do you want from me?”

“I am an emissary of the Divine; it is at her behest that I have come.”

He seemed to be groping for a weapon but realized he had none.

“Here,” she motioned, offering him his sword, “if it will make you feel better to be armed.”

“Where am I?” he reached for the sword, hesitating, and then backed away from her without taking it. “Are you a demon?”

“No, I am not a demon, and you are in the Hinterlands of Ferelden.”

“I have never heard of such a power.”

“It is just something I am able to do. No different for me than walking through a doorway to another room.”

“Are you… a mage, then?”

“No,” she chuckled, “not exactly.”

“Then what are you?”

“I am a friend.”

Her smile was warm but he remained wary, which was unsurprising.

“Why have you brought me here?”

“All is not right within the Order. You know this, but you have stayed silent because it is not your place to question your superiors.”

“No, you are mistaken.”

“Am I? You know the truth in your heart, Ser Barris.”

“Suppose that I do, what is it you expect from me?”

“The Divine intends to ferret out those who betray the central teachings of the Order. It is of the utmost import that you communicate with the Templars who remain loyal, so you may prepare for battle when the injunction comes.”

“Injunction?”

“A truce between Mages and Templars is to be brokered, and in order to achieve peace, compromises will be made on all sides. Some members of the Order have engaged in unspeakable acts of brutality, for which they will be punished.”

He looked thoughtful a moment, his brow furrowing, and she opted to say nothing while his brain processed the new information. After a time, when he still had not spoken, she broke the silence.

“Fear has ruled too many hearts for too long, my friend. What we hope to accomplish is a freer Thedas for all people.”

“I want to believe you, but…”

“You need not trust me yet, and I would not expect you to. I am a stranger, with powers you’ve never seen before. Doubting me is natural and reasonable, but I ask that you listen to your conscience. When the Divine sends for you, I hope it will be good news you deliver.”

 

\-----

 

“Hiding, lying, it wants what it isn’t.”

“Who, Cole?”

“The demon. It wants her, but it can’t.”

“Who does it want?”

“With white wings, she fills the dark corners with whispers.”

“Ah, I see.”

He was surprised neither by her making an enemy of a powerful demon, or by her appearance in this as well as nearly all his conversations. Things in the Fade had been changing; he had witnessed it, and spirits often spoke of the widening ripples caused by her actions. There was so much in him that was muddled, but he knew all too well that unforeseen consequences were often profoundly devastating.

“You are excited but also frustrated, why?”

“Feelings are often complicated.”

Was he excited? He supposed that he was, for when one has lived for thousands of years, what is new is often fascinating.

“They should not be. Your heart-“

“I do not wish to discuss it.”

“I’m sorry, Solas.”

So human the spirit looked, with his bright eyes downcast and his shoulders slumped. It would be easy to mistake him for a boy, if he did not know better.

“It is fine.”

“But you are hurt.”

“I will recover.”

“It would help if you saw her.”

“I am not certain that is true.”

Still, he had yet to see her in battle, and having the chance to see her unguarded…

“I don’t think that’s what the demon wants from her.”

“That was a private thought, Cole, fleeting and unimportant.” He couldn’t help that his voice had come out stern.

“Why have the thoughts if they upset you?”

“Some things we think, we cannot help.”

He sighed and splayed a hand across his forehead, massaging away an oncoming headache.

“Why?”

“I do not know.”

 

\-----

 

“She is a formidable woman, worthy of respect.”

“Oh whom do you speak?”

She couldn’t help the smile curving its way up her lips.

“You are not as subtle as you imagine, my friend.”

The sentinel shifted his feet and looked away.

“I do not know of what you speak.”

“That is not even a little true.”

“You suggest I would indulge in such a thing?”

“No, not suggest, I am stating it plainly. You _like_ her.”

“She has done nothing for me to dislike.”

“If it is your desire to play coy, that is fine, but know that your façade does not fool me.”

“Hmph,” he offered rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“She is unattached, if you were wondering.”

“I was not.”

“And, I do not believe you know this, but she is very romantic.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“What good is immortality, Abelas, if you do not live for a moment of it?”

“I serve Mythal. That _is_ my life.”

“Yes, but you could have both. I would gladly ask permission on your behalf.”

Golden eyes glared at her, mouth hanging slightly agape.

“Thanks is unnecessary, really, your happiness is reward enough.”

“I will never understand why you find it so amusing to mock me.”

“You have the feelings, but won’t act on them. I know it has been a long time since you experienced such pleasantries, but this is the sort of behavior friends engage in.”

“Then I think I would prefer if we were not friends.”

She wanted to feign injury, but attempts at stifling her laughter failed. That was his way, and she enjoyed him exactly as he was. She rather thought that Cassandra might too, if he let her.

“Not the first time you’ve said so, and yet we are still friends. Is it any wonder I have trouble taking you seriously?”

When he grumbled in response, she smiled again, deeper. Thedas may not be home, but her friends meant everything.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter, and I'm sorry for the delay! Things are quite busy for me; so my goal is going to be at least one update every two weeks. Thanks for reading <3
> 
> Follow me on tumblr [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/). Prompts and such are welcome :)


	13. The Eye of the Beholder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're fighting a demon, not for the last time!

There had been many new developments in the human world, and the outward ripples of her movements had caused significant changes to many regions of the Fade. It was expected and not altogether unwelcome, but the dangers inherent in wielding extraordinary amounts of power still worried him.

No spirits seemed to be unaffected by changes in the physical world, which was troubling. He had concluded that it was imperative he witness it firsthand. This was the intention that brought him to this corner of sickly green, in a place where most spirits feared to tread. Templars, a word he could not utter with disgust coloring his tone. Savage brutes stripping innocent people of their freedom out of blind fear and ignorance of magic. It was his hope she would grant them swift justice.

He waited, at the edge of the Fade, hoping his presence would remain hidden. Cole was there somewhere, still uncomfortable entering the Fade, but he had not yet revealed himself. All was calm as he observed patiently, did she know a spirit audience eagerly awaited her arrival? He was certainly not alone in having his interest piqued.

 

\-----

 

“Templars, I greet you as a friend. Please, I implore you, lower your weapons. You have been betrayed by your own order, and _that,”_ she raised an arm, finger pointed defiantly, “is _not_ the Lord Seeker!”

There was yelling and whispers running through the ranks, and she hoped Ser Barris had been able to accomplish his task. All of them could not be spared, but she would shed as much blood as was necessary to liberate Thedas. How well Fen’Harel would enjoy hearing that, and what a hypocrite he was that he would criticize her for it. It did not matter, for she knew this was a better way; even a more peaceful one. War was never ideal, but it was so often unavoidable.

Templars were fighting Templars now, swords clamoring rudely into the shields of those who had called each other friend, brother, comrade. That was the way of it with demons and other twisted creatures of their ilk, leeching insidious poison into your heart with such subtlety that you were overtaken before you even knew what was happening.

“ENOUGH!” She cried, extending her wings and lifting herself slightly off the ground.

Some of them dropped to their knees, and others moved to attack. They knew not whether she was an unholy abomination or an agent of their Maker. The truth, that she was neither, was of little import. She claimed a fallen sword and hurled it through the air and into the Lord Seeker, shattering the illusion. Envy screeched, lunging at her and dragging them both into the Fade.

 

\-----

 

Solas was confused, shocked, and bewildered. Ean’u had called herself a friend to the Templars, which was in direct opposition to being an ally of mages. She had incited a battle and broken up the fighting with manipulation and surprise. All of this to confront a demon that had apparently been corrupting them all, which was undeniable proof that Templars were every bit as terrifying as mages were supposed to be.

When the hopelessly corrupted spirit had carried itself and its prey out of the physical world, he moved quickly to mask his presence. His power was little more than an echo now, but in this place, he could shape space with his will. What he did not know was what powers she had in the Fade, her knowledge about such things, or if she had indeed ever crossed the veil before.

 

\-----

 

It was on top of her until she twisted, pushing it beneath her and then freeing herself from its clutches on their descent.

“What are you?” The creature hissed, its shape twisting.

“It matters not what form you take, Envy, there is nothing in my head that will help you.”

“Why do you fight?” an evil voice asked with Dorian’s mouth, black smoke rising from its body. “I only want to know you.”

“I know what you want, already. The only thing I will grant you is destruction.”

Quickly it warped into a new shape, the sharp features unmistakable. Glowing, yellow eyes in place of pale blue, and anger welled up inside her.

“Is this the face you will tell your secrets to? I see much of this one in your mind.”

“You will not!” She shouted.

Reaching behind her, she pulled up a large blade, bringing it overhead and cleaving the illusion in two. The withering blackness of it burned to nothing in the white fire.

“Face me as you are, demon, I will play none of your games.”

The next construct was different, broken. She had walled up her mind, and all it could glean was bits and pieces. Its figure was a grotesque amalgamation of vaguely familiar parts; its voice a hideous cacophony of sounds intermingled with Envy’s own.

“Why do you resist?” It asked, desperate. “I haven’t seen enough! Let me in, let me _in_!”

“I will not.”

The hideous form reached from behind her, but she darted out of the way. It bent over itself, disfigured limbs skittering nearer. She stood tall, wings outstretched, and caught its gaze, her head cocked to the side. Both arms reached down, pulling up razor sharp swords.

“Don’t deny me!”

It lunged, but she sidestepped, a spinning slash swirling flame in a circle around her. Envy dispersed into smoke, narrowly avoiding the fire and attempting to flee.

“You won’t escape that easy, demon!”

She leapt into the air, hurtling her body towards the cloud of black vapor, tearing directly through it. The deformed beast crumpled to the ground, its body returning to a solid state. Mangled limbs stretched outwards, scrambling for purchase in an attempt to regain its footing. The creature’s misshapen features contorted, hideous jaw rending its face in twain, as it released a piercing shriek. A forked arm struck out, pair of clawed appendages eager to tear at her flesh. She stood still, one rapid flick of her wrist cleanly severing the arm, flames lapping at the bleeding stump.

It screeched in pain, waves of sonic energy hurtling towards her, and Envy launched itself into the air with a furious push of its gangling legs. Spinning her blades to create a fiery vortex, she repelled the attack, just as poison claws flew at her shoulder. Saved at the very last second by a devastating riposte, the beast dived into the ground to save itself.

“You are selfish!” It snarled, the jealous rage of its aura filling the air. “You refuse to share your glory!”

It dove upwards just below her, preceded by a small rumble, reflexes causing her to leap off the ground, taking flight. As she dove downwards, her blades arced forward, suddenly hitting a swirling, green barrier and bouncing off.

Ean’u recovered quickly, powerful wings flapping, bringing her high into the air. Every stream of the magic the beast fired at her, she slashed away. She raced towards the barrier, body spinning in concentric circles, speed increasing with momentum, until finally she collided with the magical shield, causing it to shatter.

In the brief instant while Envy was distracted from the shock of what had just happened, she crossed dual blades and flung her wrists outwards, slicing off the demon’s head. No more would it spread its sickness, for any traces that remained were burned away into nothing.

 

\-----

 

Having seen her fight, he was struck by how truly magnificent she was. Indeed, it surprised him that the battle lasted as long as it did, as though she had delayed striking the final blow. Envy was certainly formidable, but that it was grossly outmatched had been obvious. It occurred to him that perhaps she was savoring the kill, but that did not fit, and nothing in her expression or movements gave any indication of pleasure. What other conceivable reason could there have been, unless…? No, it was not possible that she could have seen him.

“Enjoying the show, wolf?” She asked, tension forming into a small pit in his stomach. “There is no point in hiding now. The danger is gone.”

He walked towards her, shedding the fade-cloak that had apparently failed to hide his presence.

“You imagine I was afraid?”

“No, it is just your way, to let others do the work so you don’t have to get your hands dirty.”

That was… unexpectedly sharp, and he was not certain of how to respond. Should he rise to the challenge, and fire his own volley? Or, silence perhaps, nothing at all?

“So well you claim to know me,” an open response, neither of admission or denial.

“I have certainly seen all I need to.”

So this was to be how it was, then - vague statements with so little given and so little room to take. He would admit that it was far less amusing when they were being used against you.

“He doesn’t like that you say so little,” Cole’s voice interjected, suddenly.

“Cole, what are you doing in the Fade?” he asked, greeting the spirit.

“You know my name, but I don’t remember you.”

“Has something happened?”

“Not you Solas, her.”

Cole extended his arm, point a finger at Ean’u, who had yet to say a word. It occurred to him immediately that Cole peering into her thoughts might prove very useful, though having his own inadvertently shared was a disconcerting prospect.

“I don’t understand,” Cole announced curiously.

“What do you not understand?”

“She’s happy to see me, but I don’t know why.”

So she was communicating with him nonverbally! He almost had to respect how devious it was.

“No, this part of the Fade feels safe. It’s because of you.”

“Because of her? I have experienced nothing that differentiates this pocket of the Fade from any other.”

“She glows. Don’t you see it? Oh, but he should see it. I think he would like it.”

This was a worse state of things than spoken words that meant nothing. Here, they were discussing him, in front of him, and he had no way of hearing half the conversation.

“Why?” Cole asked.

“I think I will take my leave now,” he informed them, turning away.

 

\-----

 

Of course Solas hated this, and seeing him visibly chagrinned made it hard not to smile.

_Good, go._

“If you want him to stay, why do you tell him to go?”

Solas didn’t turn back, but he stopped walking. She sighed, internal chastisement for not guarding her mind better.

_Cole, he isn’t meant to know that._

“But why? He thinks about you too.”

“Cole,” Solas hissed.

She coughed minutely, stifling the laugh that fought to free itself from her lips. Reflexively, his head shifted to the sound, and their eyes met, locking together for a brief moment. He was electricity, her nerves set ablaze, shooting heat through her core. Immediately she turned her head down and away, eyes closing.

_Shit. Cole, don’t you dare!_

The spirit’s mouth was already open, but he shut it, confused look on his face. Solas was wearing his usual mask, but she’d swear she saw him breathe a relieved sigh. Foolish, she was so foolish.

_Damned fool. Control yourself! Such a complication would threaten all the progress you have made._

“It’s very loud with you both shouting. I just want to help.”

Poor Cole, to be trapped in the middle of the awkward tension that had blossomed between them. Solas looked pointedly away from her and had still said nothing.

“I think I should see to the Templars. I have been remiss in my duty. It was nice to see you, Cole. I trust your curiosity has been sated, Wolf.”

 

\-----

 

She turned and walked out of the Fade, as though it was the simplest thing, which really should not have surprised him. He was absolutely not watching her, and did not notice the sway of her hips or the gentle bouncing of her hair as she padded away from him.

She was dangerous and unpredictable, and had burrowed inextricably into his skin. Every hope he had in gaining the upper hand was forgotten the moment he was in her presence. Try as he may, the image of her above him was something he could not free himself from. Still, he swore that never again would he show her weakness, and would instead focus fully on his duty. Patience was all he need employ, and when the moment was right, he could begin anew.

He knew now, decidedly, that whatever future she was attempting to build would not be suitable for the People. Better that she let the Templars destroy themselves, rather than saving them from dogmatic corruption. He heaved a heavy sigh and strode away, wondering how the many pieces in his head could fit together into one cohesive puzzle. One thing was for certain, they would never truly be allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the ridiculous wait. Then, nearly finished with the chapter and a migraine ruined me and made this take even longer!
> 
> I am kind of glossing over story because I just want them to be together, ugh. Story is important, self... it is, really... stop sprinting towards the nearing feelsy smut...
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/), as always. Feel free to say hi :)


	14. Book of Secrets

She was having a difficult time tempering her anger. The Templars were scared and confused yes, but they had seen the demon with their own eyes. Their hesitation to accept the true state of things was expected, but still very upsetting. With every day they delayed, more people died. It was hard to focus on the greater good when so many individual lives – each with hopes and dreams, were hanging in the balance. The smallest part of her wondered if she should have not bothered trying to save them, but that was a wrong thought; the way _he_ would do this. The easy option was not the road she would take, though there was truly nothing _easy_ about any of this.

There are no guidelines written to save the world, and anyone with enough power to undertake such an endeavor must use their own judgment. Unfortunately, it is so often difficult to look at things objectively when your own feelings are hopelessly tied up in them. She had to remember to stay separate from what was happening, so that she would not risk making the same mistakes as so many others before her.

Let the Divine and her more than capable people sort out the Templars. The number of items on Ean’u’s own itinerary was constantly growing, and the less she had to do personally, the better. It was easy to feel lost in the swirling sea of chaos, since the end was not yet in sight, but she hoped her compatriots were holding strong.

“I cannot believe the Lord Seeker would do this,” Cassandra admitted resignedly.

“It is a hard thing to face, the fall of your heroes. I am sorry.”

“It is not _your_ fault. If anything, I have you to thank.”

“I am merely the messenger, burdened with sharing painful tidings.”

“But a _demon?_ It is a betrayal of the highest order!”

“Which is why you should be the one to confront him.”

“Me?”

“If you wish it. I have spoken to the Divine, and she has agreed that you should be there, if you wish.”

“I… of course. Thank you.”

Cassandra gave her a grim smile and it hurt Ean’u’s heart. They mightn’t see eye to eye in all things, but she was proud to call the human woman her friend.

 

\-----

 

“I am sorry, my Lord.”

“Do not be sorry, do better. _This_ ,” he waved his hand across the table, “is unacceptable.”

Solas pushed himself to standing, irritation flooding through his body. Wrists crossed behind his back, he set to pacing the chambers.

“The people close to the Divine are watched too closely, and we have nearly lost several agents already.”

“She knows our every move before we make it.”

He let out a breath that was almost a growl.

“Leave me.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Tracking her movements through the Fade proved nearly impossible, though he watched the memories left by her impressions. It was a curious thing, the way the spirits remembered her, almost formless. With every attempt he made to puzzle her out, she eluded him. Never before had an adversary proved to be so formidable, but mostly so because he wasn’t holding any cards. He required leverage to gain the upper hand, but as yet had no idea how to obtain it.

How could he insert himself or his people into a game where each piece on the board seemed to be selected in advance? A part of him did wonder if the only course was not to simply wait, but that was impossible. If he delayed any longer his people might never be saved, and he could not trust her to do it.

There _had_ to be a way to put them on more equal footing.

His mind worked over every possible method, but he was left at a loss. Of all he knew of her, which was infuriatingly little, the only advantageous information was that she harbored some sort of feelings for him. Attempting to manipulate her seemed the only option, but it would put him in a precarious situation.

Would she realize what he was doing and simply shut him out, or would his own traitorous emotions betray him? It was a wrong thing to do, a course that went against his morals, but it seemed there was no other option. To deceive her so, to use her feelings against her, it made him feel sick. As his stomach twisted into knots, he pushed away all reservations.

Despite whatever consequence, and regardless of what he sacrificed, his actions _must_ be undone. How hard had he searched for some alternative? It was no justification, but it was the only path open to him that he could see. Such a choice might break the last, lingering vestiges of his heart, but all that truly remained for him now was duty. How easy it would be to give up, to surrender himself to uthenera until death finally found him… This, he could not do. Walk the din’anshiral he may, but until his last breath he would fight to right what he wronged.

What was worst about the goal he had set before himself was that he could claim no guarantee of its success. The pain that stung him struck like a sword through his soul, and opening himself to it was the only way he knew to press forward. To let suffering eat away at him like a poison was all he could do to live with the guilt. Perhaps he truly was a monster, but if it meant fulfilling his promise, then there was nothing he would not do.

He inhaled sharply through his nose, fighting against the little stabs of pain as he pressed his eyes shut. With his course now set, all he needed was a plan. It must be subtle, appearing accidental, and he would have to expose himself enough for her to trust his intentions. It would be like balancing on a knife’s edge, letting the mask fall away while still hiding what lay underneath.

 

\-----

 

It was only the two of them, her and Cassandra. The warrior did worry if they should not bring a contingent of soldiers, but that would only have risked more lives. When her friend let out a shuddering breath, she placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Remain steady Seeker, you are not alone.”

“Thank you,” she swallowed, shaking the tension from her limbs. “I will try.”

“That is the best any of us can do.”

“I suppose you are right, though I wish there was more.”

She smiled, warmly at the uncertain woman.

“You fight to change the world, to save lives. There is little more anyone would ask of you.”

“But it will never be enough.”

“No,” she paused, face falling minutely before hardening with resolve, “but that is exactly why we must do all we can.”

“Do you never tire?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem so intimidating to everyone, and sometimes to me as well. Even with all your power, I know that you are not a god, and yet your strength seems limitless.”

“Let us hope that is the impression I give our enemies, then.”

Cassandra chuckled lightly.

“So, it is untrue?”

“Will and determination are what make a person strong. In that way, I am no different from you or anyone else. I am not infinite or infallible, and in those times when I feel weary, I remember the reasons to keep going.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“I think that it is, or at least that part of it is. We must each act in accordance with the truth in our hearts.”

“And what if we are making a mistake? What if what we believe is truth turns out to be wrong?”

“Then we adapt.”

The seeker shook her head and let out a small laugh.

“Are things so uncomplicated in your world?”

“That is difficult to answer, but for my people, yes. Almost always, at least.”

“It must be nice.”

She lowered her head, smiled sadly and closed her eyes.

“It is.”

“You never speak of where you’re from, I am sorry if it is… a sensitive subject.”

“No, it is fine. It just makes me a little sad, is all.”

It hurt to think of her people, her home. The choices she made meant she might never go back, and she was doing it all for _him_. A part of her feared that he could not be saved, and it was a painful reality on which she’d rather not dwell. And even if, he was lost in the end, it would still all have been worthwhile.

Sacrifice may have been her nature, but she would not offer up this world or its people to protect him. Endlessly she might give of herself, and be glad to do so, but to let others come to harm would be unforgivable. In a way, it was because she loved him that she had to stop him at any cost. Even if the price was his life, she would pay it. The possibility of it coming to that was very real, and it was hope rather than belief keeping the painful truth at bay.

 

\-----

 

“If you were to wait, another path might reveal itself.”

Wisdom did that often, reminding him of what he already knew and had chosen to ignore.

“But I cannot, and there is no certainty.”

“Your judgment remains clouded by your pride.”

“I am proud, yes, but am I wrong?”

“It is unknowable, yet that cannot increase its rightness.”

“I wish there was another option.”

“And still you have made the decision, though surety is impossible.”

“I have.”

“Then why do you come?”

“In truth, I do not know.”

“You want assurance, which cannot be provided.”

“Your guidance has always meant much to me.”

“Even when it is not followed?”

“I consider your words, always.”

“But sometimes choose to act against them?”

“It is not always prudent to act purely through wisdom.”

“Then you would act in ignorance?”

He closed his eyes and breathed, knowing they were right. What could he say in response?

“You hesitate, but will not reconsider.”

“I cannot, I have traveled too far already.”

“What is the length of the journey when you have decided the destination in advance?”

“My spirit does not endure so well as yours.”

“How then can you be sure it remains true?”

“I suppose that I must hope.”

“And is that wise?”

“Is that not for you to decide?”

 

\-----

 

The actual Lord Seeker was with a small entourage of his subordinates in an otherwise vacant Chantry. The shock of the doors suddenly bursting open was replaced after the briefest moment with a façade of implacable calm.

“Cassandra,” he greeted them, “with a woman I can only assume is the Divine’s new favorite.”

“Lord Lucius, I have come to see that you pay for your crimes,” Cassandra informed him, her features set hard as stone.

Ean’u released a small wave of warming magic to give her friend a little reassurance. She would stay back, observing, and only act when necessary.

“Were it that you knew the truth, perhaps you would see things differently.”

“The truth? You abandoned your order and left the Templars to be destroyed by a demon!”

“We Seekers of Truth were once the original Inquisition. We sought to remake the world, to make it better, but we became proud. In creating the Chantry and the Circles of Magi, we started a war that would see no end.”

“So you did all this because you hate our order?”

“We seekers are abominations Cassandra, we _had_ to be stopped. See for yourself if you don’t believe me, the secrets of our order passed to me after the former Lord Seeker was slain.”

Lucius produced a heavy, leather-bound book and offered it to Cassandra, who took it hesitantly.

“Lord Seeker, what you’ve done…”

“What happened to the Templars does not matter. I have created a new order, and when the world ends we can start anew, with a pure beginning. It is the Maker’s will Cassandra, join us!”

It was the last straw. Cassandra drew her sword and charged towards him, the soldiers immediately mounting a defense. Ean’u spread her wings, startling them, and drew a pair of daggers, throwing them into the throats of the two nearest attackers, who dropped to the ground dead.

“Kill it,” Lucius commanded, “it is unholy!”

His ‘new order’ was happy to oblige, though their eyes shone with fear. She drew the focus of the brunt of the soldiers, leaving Cassandra to her quarry. With this encounter, she was not performing for an audience. She was brutal and efficient, and in the space a few moments, the bodies of twenty men burnt to nothing in a cleansing blaze of white. She walked to Cassandra’s side, watching and waiting as the final blow was struck, felling the Lord Seeker once and for all.

“He was insane, he had to be,” Cassandra urged herself to believe. “Perhaps the envy demon’s influence?”

“It is impossible to say.”

“He could not have destroyed us all, I won’t accept it!”

“If Seekers yet remain Cassandra, I will help you find them.”

“For now, let us return to the Divine. I wish to see what’s in this Book of Secrets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have we gotten to convoluted yet? if not, we're definitely heading in that direction XD
> 
> you can follow me on tumblr [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/).


	15. It's Not Brain Surgery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I think I'm finally over my writing slump.

“Do you know what the rite of tranquility is?” Cassandra asked her, clearly upset.

“Yes,” she nodded, “it is used to sever a mage’s connection to the Fade, stripping them of their powers, and their _selves_.”

“I always thought it was a necessary evil, but apparently we’ve known how to reverse the rite from the beginning. The seekers did not share that secret, not with me, not with the chantry, and not even with the Divine herself.”

“Grave offenses that we will remedy, together.”

She bowed her head when Ean’u placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. With the radiating pulse of healing warmth, she closed her eyes, starting again after taking a deep breath.

“At some point, power becomes its own master. We cast aside ideals in favor of expedience and tell ourselves it was all necessary for _the people_. Will that happen to us, Ean’u, will we repeat history?”

“If we are not careful; if we let ourselves be led down the same paths as those who came before us.”

“I wonder how much we resemble what they used to be.”

“That does not mean we must become what they did.”

“I do not think the seekers have been doing the Maker’s work, not truly. Perhaps we believed it once, but now? We harbored secrets and let them fester. We acted to survive but not to serve. That is not the Maker’s work.”

“Perhaps they lost their way because they stopped looking.”

“I will think on your words. Thank you. I could not have done this on my own.”

“You do not give yourself enough credit, Cassandra, you are more capable than you realize.”

“I wonder about that sometimes, but I appreciate your words. Tell me, “she began, shifting the topic of conversation and restoring the wall that normally held her emotions in place, “what do you wish done with the tranquil mages?”

“My first choice would be to restore them, though I suspect you knew that already.”

“The Divine is unsure on the correct course of action. Others must be protected from danger, and so must the mages themselves.”

“Of course. I imagine that breaking the rite after so long would also be extremely traumatic for a person. Fortunately, there is someone I can consult. If there is a safe way to restore their connection to the Fade, we will find it.”

 

\-----

 

He scented her the moment she arrived, though she made no sound. Having been unsure how to proceed with his plans, her arrival might prove fortuitous. He continued to read his book, waiting for her interruption, but it took longer than anticipated. It was difficult not to smile at her hesitation – perhaps success would be possible after all.

“Fen’harel,” she greeted plainly.

“Ean’u.”

He did not look up.

“I have the means to reverse tranquility, but am unsure of the dangers involved. It was my hope that you might be of assistance.”

Well, _that_ was certainly an intriguing prospect.

“And what will your Templar allies think of such an action?”

She balked, confusion on her face for just a moment.

“I assume that what is left of the order will be glad to see their injustices undone.”

“You assume much, then.”

“As do you. Tell me, Wolf, how many Templars have you spoken to? Trained from childhood, addicted to lyrium, and indoctrinated with the belief that there is nothing more dangerous than magic. What do you suspect that would do to a person? Believe me, the Templars know just how wrong their leaders have been, and they wish to change.”

“How noble of them,” he scoffed.

She kicked his chair over with impressive force, knocking him on the floor. Surprise quickly replaced itself with anger and he jumped to his feet, narrowed eyes glaring into hers.

“People can change, Solas, you did. Though perhaps, not enough.”

Her use of his name did not escape him, though it appeared accidental. That her feelings on the subject had been strong enough for such a provocation spoke volumes, and it was something he fully intended on using to his advantage. Getting under her skin in such a manner was no small victory.

The words might have stung him once, but he was beyond that. She was nothing more to him than an obstacle in his path; one he would find a way to surmount. If she sought to wound him, she would be unsuccessful, but it was telling nonetheless that she had tried.

“What is the process to reverse the rite?” he asked, placid calm finding its way again to his features.

“A spirit of Faith must be summoned from the Fade, though I imagine you would object to such a thing.”

“You imagine correct. Spirits are not tools to be manipulated.”

“On that we can agree, which is why I wished to suggest traveling to them, instead.”

“Indeed, and you believe such a thing is possible? How much do you know of the Fade?”

“I believe I know enough.”

“Ah yes, of course. I wonder then why you thought to come to me at all, having all the answers already.”

The anger had faded from her, and now her eyes appeared the smallest bit tired, and sad. She closed them briefly, shaking her head before looking into his face. It was an arresting sight; one he found he still needed to steel himself against even after all this time.

“Could we not do this please? Even if we cannot get along, it is still necessary for us to not only coexist, but to cooperate. Helping me with this would not only potentially save many lives, but it would be to help people who have been robbed of everything they are. You need not think well of me to do this because it is not for _me_.”

She spoke with a sensibility far removed from her earlier outburst. He could respect that.

“Make your preparations then, I will assist you.”

“Thank you.”

“As you said, it is not for _you_.”

“And yet you have my thanks all the same.”

Proving himself reliable would be instrumental in gaining her trust. All he truly needed was that she leave herself just vulnerable enough to give him an opening. Of course, if he seemed too eager, she would be suspicious. No, he must act slowly, bringing down her carefully constructed defenses before she had a chance to realize what was happening. And then, when he struck, the upper hand would be his.

 

\-----

 

It did not take long for her to be ready. He had expressed his very reasonable concerns about attracting demons, but he did believe her quite capable of controlling the situation. At least, as much as was possible in the Fade.

They were to begin with only a handful of tranquil mages, should things go awry. Cole had also agreed to accompany them, a surprise that he was again, willingly, going to enter the Fade. Solas did not quite understand the affect that Ean’u had on him, but was glad that he found her presence grounding. The only problem was in keeping his mind on constant guard, lest the spirit voice any of his more private thoughts.

“And what is your plan, exactly?” he asked her, not truly certain how they intended to accomplish their goal.

“I will travel the Fade to find a willing spirit to help, and then I will bring a tranquil mage here to meet it.”

“And what if the spirit is not willing? Faith is not easily won.”

“We will just have to see, then.”

It was not much of an answer, but just the sort he’d come to expect from her.

“There is a significant risk the mages will not survive the ordeal.”

She bowed her head to the side briefly before answering.

“Yes, but it is what they would want. Besides, I have every intention of making their awakening as painless as possible.”

He wanted to know exactly what she meant by that, but was unsure if she would only offer more vague insinuations. It almost seemed a waste to ask, but then he needed her to see his interest.

“I trust you will use whatever means at your disposal, though in truth I know not how such a thing may be accomplished.”

“I will make myself into a conduit, by simultaneously healing and absorbing their trauma.”

“Is that wise? Do you not risk endangering yourself?”

“Having never done this before, I can only speculate.  My hope is that it will work well, and if it does not, then I will at least have tried my best.”

That was not so promising a plan as he had hoped. Where was the certainty with which she normally conducted herself? Was it possible that she knew less than she let on? How much of her air was real, and how much was artifice?

With the focused lens through which he now saw her, the image was much clearer than it had been before. Perhaps she was less formidable than he imaged, though underestimating her now would be careless. Still, a more powerful opponent could be easily bested with the right sort of leverage.

 

\-----

 

Faith was bright, golden and glowing. Proximity to it warmed her, a sensation familiar in its similarity to the energy within herself.

“You are not a spirit,” it stated in lieu of a greeting, voice powerful and steady.

“That is correct.”

“But you are not a human.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yet you are here. You are the first. How was this accomplished?”

“I was guided by my faith.”

“Yes. It sings loudly, da’dhruelan.”

“Will you help me?”

“You know the answer already.”

She beamed at Faith, so peaceful was it not having to hold anything back. The spirit felt almost like one of her kin, and in many ways it might have been. What were her people if not beings of faith, or love, or compassion? The spirits here reminded her so much of home, and it filled her heart almost to bursting with a profound sadness.

So much had she lost – given up freely to come here, and the pain of that loss was a constant thing. It seemed very likely she would feel it always, having no way to return. It was a burden she had chosen to bear, and even in the face of obstacles that seemed insuperable, she still believed that the choice she made was the right one.

“Let us go.”

 

\-----

 

He was both impressed and unsurprised when she arrived with the spirit. It was rare and powerful, and seldom ventured this far out in the Fade. So little faith there was in the world, and that made this spirit so very precious. He hoped she proved worthy of its favor.

“Proceed, da’dhruelan,” the spirit instructed.

She vanished immediately, gone to fetch the first tranquil.

“You call her _little believer,_ why?”

“She has faith where you have pride.”

Faith was not vague with its meaning, but that was no surprise. Pure belief was not always straightforward, but it was always sure.

“And what is it she believes in so strongly?”

Before the spirit could answer, she returned, a meager human form in tow.

“Cole, are you ready?”

“Yes. I will help.”

“And you, Solas, what say you?”

“Let us proceed.”

She stretched out her arms, bringing them slowly overhead and arched her body backwards slightly. As she brought her arms back down, mighty wings emerged from her shoulder blades. The area around them filled with steadily radiating warmth, a faint, golden glow emanating from her form. Curious that she felt so similar to the spirit.

Faith touched the lyrium-marked forehead of the woman, and Solas pulled in stray magic, shaping the Fade into as peaceful a state as was possible.

“There is too much. Not enough space. So loud… it hurts. Make it stop.”

Ean’u held the woman in her arms, the sheer force of her energy enough to almost make him lose balance. Every inch of the Fade that he could see was bathed in a pulsing, golden light.

“The noise is deafening, too much. It can’t fit, doesn’t belong.”

“You know the song Cole, help it to sing the way it should. Guide the notes to where they belong.”

He could feel the presence of another spirit, but could not tell what it was, so consumed was everything else by the powerful energy of Ean’u and Faith.

“It will be alright,” the calm, lilting voice of Peace declared. “So much pain, but it can be let go of.”

As it moved, one of its gentle, waving limbs passed through Solas and he wondered if its words were not directed, in part, at him. It flowed around Ean’u, and the light expanded, now softly shimmering with same blue that Peace was made from.

“It’s still loud, but it doesn’t hurt as much. I think that it will be alright now.”

“Thank you, Cole,” she said, smiling at him.

“I will return this one and get another. You’ve all done very well.”

 

\-----

 

“What will you do once we are finished?”

They were sat fairly close together, taking a rest from the exertion of reversing tranquility. It was less the act itself, and more the matter of preserving the mind once it was done, that was so taxing.

“Sleep,” she answered, a tiny edge of playfulness in her tone.

“Yes, I look forward to that myself, but it is not quiet what I had meant.”

“I know, I’d just like to focus on now, and not worry for just this moment about what’s coming after. We’re very nearly ready to attack Tevinter, the pieces almost all in place. Still, today has been a victory and I want to enjoy it while it lasts.”

It was such an odd thing, the companionable nature of their conversation. He was not certain how many hours had passed with them working together to bring the mages safely back from tranquility. He had nearly forgotten the warmth of her magic, the soothing affect it had. It was imperative he not be drawn in by it, and a delicate balance he would strive to achieve while taking advantage of her unguarded state.

“I think perhaps it wise to continue in another day or two. The spirits are strong, but they are not limitless. This has been a strenuous exercise for them as well.”

“Yes,” she agreed, her voice a murmur.

With his back to her, he had not seen her lie down. It was an irresistible impulse to search her features, hair splayed about her haphazardly. He tightened his jaw harshly when a smile began to curve up his lips. _Focus._

Surprising that someone who professed a deep distrust of him should be so relaxed now in his presence. The credit went to what they gone through together, but it gave credence to what he suspected about her true feelings. A dangerous game he would have to play, cultivating her feelings while not being overtaken by his own.

Gently, he dragged the back of his hand across her forehead, and she leaned into his touch. He did not close his eyes and deeply inhale the scent of her hair. He had no urge to lie down next to her and to rest his head in the curve of her neck. No, he thought only of how useful this state of distraction would be in the future, and how each piece of herself she showed him would aid in her defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you want to keep up with me on tumblr, you can do so [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/).


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